The day I divorced my fifty-year-old CEO husband, I wore a full face of makeup and a bright, crimson red dress. A flicker of impatience crossed Ethan Vance’s elegant features. “Dressed so festively. Are you getting married today?” I ran my fingers through my newly permed curls, the image of that handsome face floating into my mind. I couldn’t help but smile: “As a matter of fact, yes.” “And you actually know the guy.” Hearing this, a cold sneer appeared on his face: “The people in my circle are all famously devoted husbands. If you’re going to make up a lie, could you at least put some thought into it?” I just smiled and shook my head. I didn’t explain. It didn’t matter anyway; that person was already on his way. … Once we got in the car, Ethan didn’t drive straight to City Hall. Instead, he headed in the completely opposite direction. Meeting my confused gaze, he said coldly: “Mia is going today too. She’s waited over twenty years, and I don’t want to make her wait any longer.” So, our marriage of convenience, this sham of a union, had actually been a front for that long. When we arrived near Mia Harper’s neighborhood, I received a text from him. While replying, I got out of the car and went to a convenience store to buy a bottle of water. When I returned, someone was already sitting in the passenger seat. “Chloe, I’m so used to sitting in the passenger seat of Ethan’s car. You don’t mind, do you?” What was there to mind? We were on our way to get a divorce today anyway. I reached out to grab my purse from the seat, and Mia covered her mouth with a gasp: “What a gorgeous bag!” “Chloe, give the bag to Mia,” Ethan commanded, his hands on the steering wheel, not even bothering to look back. I just wanted to get my bag to take off the little charm attached to it. He slammed on the brakes and whipped his head around: “I bought that bag for you. Are you seriously expecting me to pay you for it now?” I held up the cute charm I had just unclipped: “You didn’t buy this.” His face darkened, a strange look flashing through his eyes. I then tossed the bag into Mia’s lap and said: “There are plenty more brand-new bags at home. Give me your address, and I’ll send them all to you.” Seeing this, Ethan nodded in satisfaction: “Chloe, as long as you don’t cause a scene, I guarantee no one in our circle will know about our divorce.” I didn’t respond. Because the man I was going to marry didn’t want to keep our relationship a secret. My phone started vibrating frantically. I leaned against the window and answered it quietly. It was him. He said he was already boarding his flight. A smile played on my lips as I replied softly: “Okay.” Ethan caught the smile on my lips through the rearview mirror. A surge of irritation instantly flared in his chest. Just as he was about to demand who I was talking to, Mia, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly let out a deep sigh. She stroked the bag in her lap absentmindedly. “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked gently, turning his head while waiting at a red light. Mia hurriedly covered a spot on the bag, her eyes darting away: “N-nothing…” Sensing something was off, Ethan forcefully snatched the bag from her. There was a long, deep gash across the leather. It looked fresh. And very obvious. The anger in Ethan’s heart instantly ignited. He grabbed the bag and hurled it straight at me. I was looking out the window, completely off guard, and took the full force of the blow on my arm. My hand jerked, accidentally pressing the ‘end call’ button. But I still had things I wanted to say. Ignoring the urge to argue with Ethan, I grabbed my phone to call him back. Just as I dialed the number, Ethan got out from the front seat, snatched my phone, and smashed it viciously onto the pavement. In an instant, the phone was crushed into pieces by a passing car. “Ethan Vance, you…” Before I could finish, he dragged me out of the car. Wearing high heels, I lost my balance and twisted my ankle the moment my feet hit the ground, unable to even stand up straight. Seeing my red and swollen ankle, Ethan shook off my hand in disgust. “I just asked you to give her a bag, and you actually slashed it before handing it over. Chloe, I truly never realized you were such a manipulative and scheming woman!” Convicting me without even asking a single question? I looked up at Mia in the car. She hurriedly averted her eyes, her hands nervously twisting her clothes. Ever since she appeared, I had become the most manipulative woman in Ethan’s eyes. Marrying him to help the Vance family through a crisis was seen as using a favor to blackmail him—manipulative; Working myself to the bone on projects to expand the company was seen as using his connections as a stepping stone—manipulative; Agreeing to step aside for him and Mia was seen as playing hard to get—manipulative… In the past, I would have patiently explained myself over and over again. But today, I didn’t want to defend myself anymore. “That’s right, I just didn’t want to give it to her. I just wanted to disgust her. Are you satisfied?” Fighting the excruciating pain in my ankle, I stood up straight, turned around, and walked toward the sidewalk without looking back. Ethan, I will never chase after you to explain myself again. He stood by the car, his temples throbbing: “Chloe, since you admit it, don’t blame me for leaving you here. You can walk there yourself today!” Hah, leaving me behind? Has he left me behind for Mia’s sake only a few times? When he received a message from Mia at our wedding, he left without a word of explanation in front of all the guests; At a gala, he secretly went to pick up Mia without telling me, leaving me shivering in the cold wind for two hours; On a business trip abroad, Mia made one phone call, and he left me all alone without saying a word. After all this, my heart had grown cold a long time ago. By the time I hobbled near City Hall, my foot was swollen beyond recognition. Every step I took brought out a cold sweat from the pain. I was leaning against a wall to rest when someone suddenly darted out from behind and forcefully scooped me up into his arms. “Ethan, put me down!” His jaw was tight, acting as if he hadn’t heard me, and walked straight inside. As we passed Mia, a flash of resentment crossed her eyes. As soon as we entered, a helpful bystander pointed the way: “Sir, marriage registration is over here.” Ethan’s face darkened, and he immediately dropped me: “We’re here for a divorce.” Falling heavily to the ground, the impact sent another piercing jolt of pain through my twisted ankle. The paperwork was finished, and I had the divorce certificate in hand. I went straight to a bench to sit and wait. Calculating the time, he should be arriving soon. “Chloe, aren’t you leaving? Your foot looks pretty bad. Ethan and I can give you a ride to the hospital after we get our marriage certificate!” Mia clung affectionately to Ethan’s arm, smiling at me. I took out a compact to touch up my lipstick: “No need. I’m waiting for someone to get married. He’ll take me to the hospital later.” “Oh~ What a coincidence! Ethan, let’s wait with Chloe for a bit, okay?” Mia pulled Ethan over to sit next to me: “Once we get our certificate, if the person Chloe is talking about doesn’t have a car, we can even give her a ride home.” Ethan thoughtfully took her hand and tucked it into his coat pocket to keep it warm: “You, always worrying about others.” But the sky was growing dark, and no one showed up. I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to realize it had just been crushed by a car. Full of regret, I was about to get up and leave. Mia, clutching her brand-new marriage certificate, walked over with a beaming smile: “Chloe, let’s not worry about whether this person exists or not. Listen to me, take Ethan’s car to the hospital first. We’ll take you!” I patted my pockets again. I truly didn’t have a single penny on me. The only valuable thing, my bag, had just been given away. So, I didn’t refuse her offer. As we walked out, I held onto the railing, carefully stepping down the stairs. “Chloe, let me help you.” Mia quickly caught up to me. Just as I was about to wave her off and decline. “Ah—” She let out a scream, her foot slipped, and she fell backward. Ethan caught her securely. She leaned against Ethan’s chest, her eyes welling with tears: “Chloe, I was just trying to help you. Why did you push me?” Ethan gently patted her back with a look of heartache, then turned around, grabbed my arm, and yanked me down the stairs. “Chloe, you really don’t know what’s good for you…” Seeing me cry out in pain and clutch my ankle, a flicker of reluctance crossed his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to tell me to get in the car. Mia parted her lips and murmured: “Ethan…” He immediately helped the woman in his arms into the car. And sped off. I limped to the police station, and the police kindly gave me a ride home. My assistant got me a replacement SIM card, bought a new phone, and brought it to me at the hospital. As soon as I turned it on, I had countless missed calls. The moment I unlocked the screen, another call popped up. “Chloe! You finally answered! Did something happen?!” The person on the other end sounded like he was about to cry from anxiety. I looked at my freshly bandaged ankle, lowered my eyes, and said: “Nothing major, just twisted my ankle.” “What?! Is it serious? Are you at the hospital?” His voice was frantic; he wished he could magically appear by my side right that second. “I bought a high-speed train ticket the moment I got off the plane. I’ll be there in half an hour.” “My flight had to turn back halfway because of the weather.” “I called you the second we landed, but no one answered. I was scared to death.” Right after the call ended, Ethan, who hadn’t posted on social media in a century, actually updated his status with a photo. It was a silhouette of him and Mia holding their marriage certificate. I left a comment: [Lovers finally united. Wishing you both happiness.] When I looked again, the post had been deleted. A call from Ethan popped up at the top of my screen. I hit decline and blocked the number. Just as I stepped out of the examination room, I ran into Ethan and Mia coming out of the room next door. “Alone?” Ethan instinctively furrowed his brow. Resentment flooded Mia’s face. She stepped forward, pressing herself against Ethan, instantly changing her expression. She wrapped her arm around his waist and laughed: “Chloe, hasn’t the person you’re supposed to marry shown up yet?” “How can anyone be so unpunctual these days! Making a sick person come to the hospital all alone.” My phone alarm went off. Ignoring their questions, I hurriedly limped toward the hospital exit. They followed unhurriedly behind me. “Chloe, did you just make up this person because Ethan and I are getting married?” Hearing Mia’s words, a look of understanding dawned on Ethan’s face. He stroked Mia’s hair with absolute tenderness: “Chloe, you don’t need to put up a front and pretend you’re getting married too. After all, there aren’t many people in this world who, like Mia, are willing to wait over twenty years.” Mia clung to Ethan’s arm, acting coquettish: “Ethan~ Let’s not talk about the past. I’d do anything for you.” My phone buzzed. I pointed at my phone over my shoulder to the people behind me: “Sorry about this, my ride is here. I’ll introduce him to you guys another day.” “Chloe, look at the situation, are you still trying to lie to us?” Ethan stood a short distance away, looking as if he was waiting to see if I had actually called a car. The driver had just pulled over. Ethan pulled out a stack of cash and threw it through the car window: “Cancel this ride. You don’t need to take her.” Then he turned back to me, a smirk on his face, seemingly convinced that the person I mentioned was fabricated: “Where to? I’ll give you a ride.” Mia enthusiastically opened the back door for me: “Chloe, why don’t you just admit it!” “Even if that person was just something you made up on the spot, it’s fine. Ethan and I promise we won’t laugh at you.” I sighed, feeling a bit amused. Since these two wanted to know so badly. Then finding out a little earlier wouldn’t hurt. It just so happened that both of them knew this person. The car hit the road. Mia alternated between feeding Ethan fruit and sleeping with her head on his shoulder. They were practically glued together, just like a young, newlywed couple. Ethan glanced at me from time to time through the rearview mirror, but only saw me glued to my phone, replying to messages. A faint smile lingered on my lips. A wave of irritation suddenly washed over him. Notifications kept popping up on my phone. It wouldn’t stop buzzing. Seeing this, the frustration in Ethan’s chest grew. “What, did you get a friend to pretend to be that guy messaging you?” I replied to the last message and locked my phone: “No need for that.” He gritted his teeth and reached back, trying to snatch my phone. I slightly tilted my hand and dodged it: “Ethan, you have no right to check my phone now.” Anger flashed across his face. Finally, he turned his head away and stopped looking at me: “Fine, let’s see how long you can keep up this act.” When we arrived at the station, I naturally got out to wait for someone. Mia, eager to watch a good show, dragged Ethan out of the car to follow me. The crowd gradually dispersed, and the smile on Mia’s face grew deeper. “Chloe, it’s pretty cold today. You really don’t need to leave yourself stranded here just because you spoke out of turn.” “Let’s go home. This time, I’ll make sure Ethan takes you all the way to your door…” Mia’s voice trailed off as she saw the person approaching. Until I cupped that person’s face and gently planted a kiss on his lips. Ethan and Mia’s faces instantly drained of color. Ethan stormed over, his face livid, and yanked me away: “Chloe, how could you be with him!” Mia, clutching her chest tightly in anger, grabbed the person’s arm and demanded loudly: “How could you be with her!”

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Everyone in the New York elite circle knew I was a dog raised by the Sterling family. The true heiress of the Sterling family was my twin sister, Sophia Sterling. She was the apple of everyone’s eye. And I was just the imposter dragged out to take the blame whenever she made a mistake. Only my uncle, Arthur Sterling, would secretly bring me pastries when I was punished by kneeling in the family chapel. “Chloe, just endure it a little longer. When your uncle takes over the Sterling family, I’ll take you away.” Sophia hated me to the core for this, torturing me in every way possible, but Arthur would always quietly intervene. Until Arthur finally defeated my father and became the new head of the Sterling family. I thought my suffering was finally over. I pushed open his bedroom door, only to see him and Sophia passionately entangled in bed. “If your good niece knew that you went through all this trouble to ruin the Sterling family just so she’d have nowhere to go and become your dog, would she go crazy?” I instantly felt like I had plummeted into an abyss. Faced with my broken questioning, Arthur didn’t even bat an eyelid. “Since you know everything now, I can’t be bothered to pretend anymore.” “This is the Sterling family’s underground fight club. If you want freedom, beat all the opponents I arrange for you and walk out of there alive.” … My whole body stiffened, thinking I must be dreaming. “What, you don’t believe me?” He chuckled lightly. “Did you think I intervened with Sophia because my heart ached for you?” “I just didn’t want my toy to be broken by someone else before I got to play with it.” Sophia also poked her head out of the room at this moment. “Sister, did you really think Uncle loved you?” She walked up to me. “The only one he has ever loved is me.” “As for you, you’re just a replacement who looks like me. Actually, you’re not even a replacement, just a dog that needs to be trained.” “Looking at your eyes, you want to kill us, don’t you? The more you hate, the more excited I get.” I stared dead at Arthur, my voice so hoarse it barely sounded human. “Why… you weren’t like this before!” “There is no ‘why’,” Arthur walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey. “From the day your father picked me up, I was just a tool for him to climb higher. Now that I’ve taken back everything that’s mine, is there a problem?” “And you, Chloe Sterling, are just a part of my spoils of war.” “Think it’s unfair? There is no such thing as fairness in this world.” “You’ve enjoyed twenty years under the title of the eldest Miss Sterling. Now, it’s time for you to pay the price.” Too lazy to say more, he waved his hand impatiently, and two men in black suits appeared behind me. “Take her to the fight club. Teach her the rules.” Before I even had time to react, one of them grabbed my hair and roughly dragged my entire body out. A tearing agony shot through my scalp. As I passed Sophia, she leaned into my ear and whispered: “Sister, guess who the first opponent will be?” “It’s that bodyguard whose legs Uncle broke just because he took a second look at you.” “He’s… probably going crazy missing you right now.” Arthur’s voice came from behind. “To make it more interesting, all your opponents will be men.” “Chloe Sterling, don’t disappoint me.” He added a touch of amusement, “At least, survive for a little while.” I was dragged into the elevator, the feeling of weightlessness making my stomach churn. Ding— The elevator doors opened, and the frantic, roaring sound instantly drowned me. I was roughly pushed out, stumbling a few steps before crashing into a man’s back. The man looked at me, froze for a second, and then let out a lewd whistle: “Yo, Mr. Sterling’s new toy? So tender, it’d be a shame to just beat her to death.” The people around immediately erupted into mocking laughter. Looking at these crazed faces, I laughed—laughed at myself for actually having fantasies about Arthur. I was thrown into a dilapidated room. The bodyguard threw a set of black lace lingerie at my feet. “Mr. Sterling’s orders. Put it on.” There was so little fabric it couldn’t even cover my body properly. “What if… I don’t put it on?” The bodyguard sneered and lit up his phone screen, showing a picture of my grandmother in her nursing home. “Mr. Sterling said, if you don’t obey, your grandmother might have a sudden heart attack in the nursing home at any moment.” The last trace of color drained from my face. Without another word of nonsense, I took that ridiculous lingerie and, under the bodyguard’s explicit and greedy gaze, took off my clothes piece by piece. I straightened my back, letting those gazes flay me alive. The corridor leading to the fight club was lined with people. The moment I appeared, whistles and filthy jokes were relentless. “This is tonight’s appetizer? Mr. Sterling is really getting more and more creative.” “Fighting in that? I bet she won’t last ten seconds!” “Ten seconds? I bet she’ll piss her pants the moment she steps into the ring!” I walked step by step toward the iron cage illuminated by the spotlights. Arthur was sitting in the VIP section directly facing the cage door. Sophia was draped all over him, laughing and saying something to him. Seeing me, Sophia smiled even more triumphantly. She raised her glass to me and silently mouthed: “Good luck.” The referee stopped me and loudly announced the rules tailor-made for me. “First, for the sake of fairness, Miss Sterling is not allowed to use any weapons.” The crowd erupted in a roar of laughter. A woman who lacked the strength to tie a chicken, wearing lingerie, and they actually said “for the sake of fairness” she wasn’t allowed to use weapons. “Second, to increase the entertainment value, Miss Sterling is not allowed to retreat more than three steps during the match; otherwise, it’s an automatic forfeit.” This meant I could only take the hits head-on, unable to dodge. “Third, and the most important point,” the referee dragged out his voice, “after each round, the audience will vote to decide on a ‘special performance’ to be completed by Miss Sterling and the victor.” What the so-called “special performance” entailed went without saying. The cheers almost blew the roof off. Arthur’s gaze fell on me. He wanted to see me break down, wanted to see me kneel and beg for mercy. “What if I win?” The referee froze, seemingly having never considered this question. Arthur, however, curled the corners of his mouth. “You win? That would be even more interesting.” “Win all the matches, and you can walk out of here alive.” He paused. “And, you can do anything you want to your final opponent.” “Including killing him.” As he said this, his eyes never left me, as if hinting at something. Sophia giggled in his arms. “Uncle, you think too highly of her. She can’t even stand steady.” Before she could finish her sentence, I mimicked the posture of a fighter, adopting a clumsy fighting stance. The ridiculous lingerie I was wearing, paired with this comical action, instantly triggered roars of laughter from the entire venue. “Hahahaha! What does she think she’s doing? Dancing Swan Lake?” “Oh my god, I’m dying of laughter. Where did Mr. Sterling find this clown?” The smile on Arthur’s face deepened; it was the pleasure of watching a clown perform. Only a friend beside him frowned and said in a low voice: “Arthur, isn’t this going a bit too far? She is your niece, after all.” Arthur’s eyes instantly went cold: “Shut up! There is no niece of mine here, only my plaything.” The moment the words fell, memories of our past flashed through his mind. He picked up his glass, using the alcohol to suppress that fleeting fluctuation. I slowly lowered my hands, faced Arthur in the VIP section, and clearly enunciated two words. “I accept.” The opponent for the first round was indeed the bodyguard Sophia had mentioned, Max. He limped onto the stage, his eyes looking at me filled with a twisted, perverse excitement. “Eldest Miss Sterling, long time no see. Never thought we’d meet in a place like this, did you?” He sneered viciously, cracking his knuckles. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die too quickly.” “I will break your bones inch by inch, and let you taste what I went through back then.” At the referee’s command, Max lunged at me fiercely. I instinctively retreated, and the referee’s voice rang out, reminding me of that ridiculous “no retreating more than three steps” rule. I forced myself to stop, facing his massive fist head-on. Bam! A heavy punch smashed ruthlessly into my lower abdomen. The excruciating pain made me double over instantly, stomach acid rushing up my throat. He didn’t give me any chance to catch my breath, grabbing my hair and violently smashing my face into the chain-link fence. “Scream! Why aren’t you screaming? Weren’t you so high and mighty before!” The rough wire mesh scraped my cheek, leaving streaks of blood. The roars and whistles from the crowd grew increasingly frantic. “Useless trash, can’t even dodge,” Sophia’s shrill voice drifted over. “Uncle, look at her, she’s really embarrassing our Sterling family.” Arthur didn’t say anything, just picked up his glass and took a sip. The pain almost made me lose consciousness, but Max’s insults, Sophia’s mockery, and Arthur’s indifference—these kept me awake at all times. The moment Max grabbed my head to smash it against the wire mesh again, I used all the strength in my body and violently kneed him right in the groin! “Aaargh—!” Max let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching his crotch and collapsing to the ground in agony. No one expected that this seemingly weak and fragile woman would use such a ruthless move. I took the opportunity to break free, leaning against the wire mesh, panting heavily. Although my entire body throbbed with pain, a sliver of dark satisfaction rose in my heart. In the VIP section, Sophia’s mouth hung open in shock: “How… how dare she!?” However, my counterattack did not bring victory. After twitching on the ground for a few seconds, Max suddenly jerked his head up, filled with crazed, murderous intent. “Bitch! You’re asking to die!” He leaped up from the ground, his fists raining down on my face like a violent storm. I was beaten completely defenseless and soon collapsed onto the ground. He stepped on the back of my hand with one foot, his heel slowly rotating, grinding down with force. Crack. The crisp sound of breaking bones echoed throughout the venue. The excruciating pain made my vision go black, almost causing me to faint. “Stop!” The referee’s voice rang out. “Max wins!” Only then did Max lift his foot, a look of vengeful pleasure on his face: “Eldest Miss Sterling, how does that taste?” I lay on the cold ground, my consciousness blurring. On the big screen, the vote count rolled rapidly, finally stopping on the words “Lick Feet”. The entire venue cheered. Max smugly extended his foot towards my face. “Come on, lick it clean, like a good bitch.” At this moment, Arthur was watching this scene with great interest. Not only did he not stop it, he picked up the microphone and said to the entire venue: “It seems our Miss Sterling still doesn’t quite understand the rules. Who wants to teach her?” As soon as the words fell, two burly men stepped onto the stage, pressing down hard on the back of my neck, trying to force me to lick his foot. For the next few matches, I became a joke. Every night, I was dragged back to that small room, and the next day dragged back onto the boxing ring, repeating the failures and humiliations. “Striptease,” “Bark like a dog”… The “special performances” the audience came up with became increasingly vulgar, each one trampling my dignity underfoot. But I didn’t beg Arthur for mercy. Not once. My silence clearly enraged him more than crying or screaming would have. He arranged stronger and stronger opponents for me, even ruthless outlaws. Until a butcher pulled out a dagger. The venue was in an uproar, and even the referee looked towards Arthur. Arthur just said flatly: “In the ring, life and death are your own responsibility.” The sharp knife slashed across my face, leaving a wound so deep the bone was visible. Just when I thought I was going to die there, some latent instinct within my body was awakened. I dodged the fatal stab, violently rammed my shoulder into his ribs, and then came an extreme burst of energy. I won, in a tragic, bloody manner. Clutching my bleeding arm, I looked coldly at the VIP section. The expression on Arthur’s face seemed to be one of heartache. But before that emotion could fully form, it was completely strangled by Sophia’s vicious words. “Uncle, look at her eyes, it’s like she wants to eat you alive.” “She’s an untamable wolf cub. Your soft-heartedness will only make her hate you more.” She leaned close to his ear and said something else. Arthur’s body visibly stiffened, and immediately, the trace of heartache in his eyes vanished completely. “You’re right. I’ve been too merciful.” He picked up the microphone and announced to the venue: “Tonight’s matches are over.” “But to reward our brave Miss Sterling, I have prepared a… true special performance for her.” As soon as the words fell, several men walked in, surrounding me with malicious intent. Leading them was Max, the one who broke my hand in the first match. “Arthur! You’re crazy!” The friend who had tried to persuade him earlier stood up again. “You can’t do this!” Arthur shoved him away. “What I do is none of your business!” “Chloe, this is the last chance I’m giving you.” “Kneel down now, beg me, say you were wrong, say you’re willing to be my dog, and I’ll let you go.” Sophia giggled on the side: “Sister, hurry up and beg for mercy. Look how much Uncle cares about you. All you have to do is kneel down and wag your tail, and you’ll be saved.” Looking at those ugly, wicked faces, I suddenly laughed. “Arthur Sterling, keep dreaming.” My answer completely destroyed his last shred of patience. “Show her what true despair is.” I didn’t struggle, nor did I cry or scream. I just kept my eyes wide open, staring dead at that blurry figure in the VIP section. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was all over. I was left just like that in the center of the boxing ring. “Arthur Sterling, you will regret this!!” I don’t know how much time passed, but I was dragged out of the iron cage like a dead dog and thrown into a corner backstage. Arthur and Sophia had also left. In the massive fight club, only a few cleaners remained, numbly cleaning up the mess. One of the older cleaners saw me, a flash of pity in his eyes. He quietly walked over and draped a reasonably clean staff jacket over my broken body. “Girl, get out of here, quick.” “If you don’t leave now, you really won’t be able to leave.” Using all my strength, I barely managed to prop myself up, but the excruciating pain in my hand bones and the agonizing feeling of my body being torn apart made me fall again. Right at that moment, a pair of expensive leather shoes stopped in front of me. It was the friend who had tried to advise Arthur earlier, Julian. He took off his suit jacket, wrapped my entire body in it, and picked me up sideways. “Don’t be afraid. I’m getting you out of here.” Leaning against his chest, my consciousness hovering between wakefulness and fainting, I only heard him make a phone call. “Dave, do me a favor. Get the best room and doctor ready at a private hospital. I’m bringing someone over right now.” “Remember, use your name. We can’t let anyone trace this, especially not Arthur.” When I woke up again, I was lying in a clean, bright hospital room. My wrist had been properly bandaged and immobilized, and the wounds on my body had been treated. Julian was keeping watch by the bed. Seeing me awake, he breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been unconscious for two days.” I looked at him and said hoarsely: “Why did you save me?” “Because I still have a conscience.” “Arthur… he’s gone crazy, blinded by hatred. I couldn’t just watch him destroy you, and destroy himself.” I let out a cold laugh, the laughter pulling at the wound on my face, a piercing pain. “Destroy himself? He’s riding high right now.” Julian was silent for a moment, then handed me a tablet. “I secretly copied this. It’s the illegal records of all the assets Arthur has absorbed, including the financial flows and transaction lists of that underground fight club.” “I don’t know what you want to do, but I figured you’d need this.” I took the tablet, my fingertips turning white from gripping it so tightly. “Why are you betraying him?” “He was my best friend,” Julian’s eyes dimmed, “but I can’t watch him turn into an absolute monster.” “And…” he paused, his voice deepening, “I owe you my life.” I was stunned. “Five years ago, your father planned a car accident to get rid of me. It was you who secretly made an anonymous call that saved me.” “Even though you never admitted it, I know it was you.” So that was it. It turns out a thoughtless act of mine back then ended up saving me today. I looked at the shocking documents on the tablet screen, and the suppressed hatred in my heart began to grow wildly. I didn’t cry, just said calmly to Julian. “Help me contact someone.” “I want to see the CEO of Starlight Media, the biggest media conglomerate in New York.” I was going to make Arthur Sterling pay a bloody price for everything he had done.

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Arthur Vance cheated on me. A one-night stand. The girl got pregnant, caused a huge scene right in front of me, and demanded Arthur take responsibility. Arthur smoked a cigarette and handed the power of choice to me. “It was just once.” “If you can forgive me, we’ll keep living our lives together.” “If not, we get a divorce.” My face pale, my voice trembling, I asked: “It’s your fault, right?” “If we get a divorce, you’ll admit that it’s your fault, right?” 1 My marriage to Arthur Vance was built on the scraps my younger sister didn’t want. Chloe Hayes was lively, outgoing, and wildly unruly. She refused to be trapped for life by a so-called arranged marriage. So, she grabbed a debit card loaded with three million dollars and ran away. My mother’s heart ached for her youngest daughter, but she also couldn’t bear to let go of a golden son-in-law like Arthur. So, she pushed me forward instead. Acting as if Arthur would marry any daughter as long as she belonged to the Hayes family. Who was Arthur Vance? In the upper echelons of New York society, if a chandelier fell, it would crush a whole row of old-money heirs. He was the biggest one of them all. Chloe fleeing the wedding had already severely damaged his pride. And now they wanted him to marry me? Were they daydreaming? But I still went to see him once, volunteering myself, and he actually agreed. This year marks our fourth year of marriage. In front of outsiders, we are the model couple. But in private, we treat each other with the utmost, distant courtesy. Even when we sleep together, we maintain the most basic etiquette. My mother kept pressuring me, saying it was time I had a child. She constantly nagged about how useless I was, warning me that if things continued this way, I wouldn’t be able to tie Arthur down—what if he ran off? I wanted to say, Arthur isn’t a dog. Even if I wanted to tie him down, would he let me? But I didn’t say that. I just nodded submissively, over and over again. My mother hated seeing me like that the most. She rolled her eyes, twisted her waist, and strutted away. But what I never expected was that I actually got pregnant. 2 My period was late by one, two, three… looks like four weeks. Last night, I bought a pregnancy test. Two pink lines. Today, I went to the hospital and got bloodwork done. The doctor held the lab report. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant. Are you planning to keep this baby or not?” “Keep it, of course!” I hesitated slightly. Arthur didn’t know yet. This child was also completely outside our plans. I needed to go ask him. So, holding the report, I went straight to his company. When I arrived, Arthur was in a meeting. His assistant led me into his office, poured me some coffee, brought me dessert, and asked me to wait a bit. I picked up the cup, about to drink. Can you drink coffee when you’re pregnant? I wasn’t sure. Let me google it. You can. Then no problem. I took a small sip and sighed in satisfaction. I had only let out half that sigh when suddenly, noisy arguing erupted outside, accompanied by a woman’s scream. I pushed the door open and locked eyes with a woman being held back by security. Her eyes were red as she roared: “Tell Arthur Vance to get out here! He knocked someone up, does he think he doesn’t have to take responsibility?!” Such a loud voice. Such a huge scene. So many people. So humiliating!!! I wished I could find a crack in the floor to crawl into. I just wanted to say, this has absolutely nothing to do with me! Thankfully, Arthur appeared just in time. With a cold face, he strode through the crowd and spotted me peeking through the crack of the door. His large, well-defined hand covered my eyes. I instinctively shrank back. He moved his hand and pulled the door shut. I blinked. Wait. My husband cheated, knocked someone else up, and now the mistress was confronting him at the office—and I was completely excluded from this drama? 3 Arthur indicated that I wasn’t entirely excluded. He dismissed the crowd, whispered a couple of words to the woman, pushed open the door, and brought her right in front of me. Seeing how calm, breezy, and composed he was, I really wanted to give him a standing ovation. To be able to cheat and act this self-righteous about it… he was probably the first in history, and likely the last. The woman was very cool. Wearing simple athleisure, a high ponytail, and a baseball cap. She sat there, legs crossed, her whole demeanor screaming, “Don’t mess with me.” But she was genuinely beautiful. Exquisite features, a cold and stunning aura. With looks alone, it was hard to hate her. It’s just a shame she opened her mouth. “This is your wife?” “Get a divorce.” “I’m pregnant, and you need to take responsibility for me.” I twitched my mouth. Well, I’m pregnant too, so who’s taking responsibility for me? Logically speaking, as the legal wife, I definitely had more leverage than a mistress. But when marriage becomes a battlefield, the more immoral one is, the more self-righteous they act. “Sigh!” I let out a sigh, grabbed a small cookie, and started eating. It was milky and buttery, not too sweet. Not bad. “Do you want one?” The woman looked at me with utter disgust, pointing her finger. “Is she crazy?” Arthur, for once, actually frowned. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the adjoining lounge. He smoked a cigarette in suffocating silence. “It was just once.” “I accidentally drank something spiked, and unexpectedly slept with her.” “Stella.” He raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze exceptionally serious. He said: “The fault is mine, you make the decision.” “If you can forgive me, we’ll keep living our lives together.” “If not, we get a divorce.” The sudden appearance of the word “divorce” made my heart skip a beat, and then it started racing wildly. I uncontrollably pinched the webbing between my thumb and index finger. “It’s your fault, right?” “If we get a divorce, you’ll admit that it’s your fault, right?” 4 Arthur looked at me intently. He was handsome, much better looking than anyone else I had ever met. I really liked looking at him. Especially in bed, looking up at him, seeing his hazy eyes, hearing his sexy panting. It all always made me lose myself and experience ultimate pleasure. Divorce… it’s a bit of a shame. But divorce… it’s not entirely out of the question either. “So, your choice is divorce?” I nodded and pointed outside. “With things like this, we have to divorce!” “It’s just my mom… you will admit to her that it was your fault, right?” I confirmed once more. Arthur’s expression, however, faded. Those unfamiliar, distant eyes were quite hard to bear. But I am best at handling internal discomfort. Take a deep breath, exhale, and you’re good. Arthur stood up, brushed off imaginary dust from his clothes, and said calmly: “Don’t worry, I will handle it.” Phew! Then I’m relieved. “If we divorce, I don’t need anything else, I just want Vance Pharmaceuticals.” “Fine.” “But if it’s convenient for you, giving me a villa would be nice too.” “Okay.” “Then can I also ask for thirty million dollars?” Arthur turned his head, staring at me. “You want everything, and you still want a divorce?” “If we don’t divorce, it’s all yours.” I avoided his gaze, lowered my head, and awkwardly shifted my feet. Listen to him. Then you shouldn’t have cheated! If you didn’t cheat, we wouldn’t have to divorce. If we don’t divorce, your wife and child are both yours. ………… Wait. Even if he cheated and we divorced, he’d still have a wife and child. Damn it! As expected of a businessman, always calculating profit down to the last cent. 5 Arthur sent the woman away. What they talked about, or what he promised her, I have no idea. By the time I came out of the lounge, the woman was already gone. There wasn’t a single delicious dessert left. I looked around, checked again. When I left, I still couldn’t help but grab the assistant. “Those little cookies from earlier, could you pack some up for me?” Assistant Davis looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t, his expression incredibly complicated. Behind me, Arthur let out a cold scoff. “Pack them for her!” This incident blew up way too big. By evening, my mother was already calling. The first one, I didn’t answer. The second one, I still didn’t answer. The third one, I stared at the phone for a long time, then tossed it into the sink filled with water. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief. At the same time, I figured out the answer to a question: I was going to keep the baby in my belly. This child… I would provide half of his chromosomes. He would be nourished by my flesh and blood, emerge from my body, and grow into a new life form. He shares my bloodline. He is my most beloved family. What reason do I have not to give birth to him? Yes, I’m going to have him! This decision made me excited. I opened a bottle of $4,000 red wine from the wine cabinet. Can you drink wine when you’re pregnant? No? No, in moderation. So, cheers!

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I was out of town when I received a text from my neighbor, saying my husband had brought a flashy woman home. I rushed back immediately. My husband wasn’t there. I frantically tore through the apartment. “You bitch, where are you hiding? Get out here!” I peeked under the bed, only to find a bloody female corpse. Her head had been severed. Her eyes were wide open, staring dead at me. I was scared out of my wits. Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. My husband was back! 1 Click. The front door unlocked. A shiver ran through my entire body. Almost on instinct, I glanced left and right, then swiftly darted into the closet. The closet had louvered doors. Through the slats, I could still see that head under the bed. The woman was wearing heavy smokey-eye makeup and exaggerated colored contacts. At first glance, her two eyeballs looked completely black, bulging as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. I clamped my hand over my mouth, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would explode. I just couldn’t figure it out. I came here to catch a cheater; how did I stumble into this?! Why did my husband kill her? Did they get into some kind of fight? My husband has always had a bad temper. When we go out to eat, if the waiter is a bit slow bringing the food, he’ll slam his fist on the table. Arguing with people is practically a daily occurrence for him. But no matter what, it shouldn’t escalate to murder, right? That’s a serious crime. Didn’t he consider the consequences? While my mind was racing, my husband walked into the bedroom. He looked to be in a great mood. He was carrying a black plastic trash bag in his hand, casually humming a tune. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day~” Humming, he slowly crouched down, set the plastic bag by his feet, and fished that head out from under the bed. He held the head in his left hand, and with his right hand, he tapped the woman’s nose in an exasperated manner. “You!” “You just wouldn’t listen!” His tone was playful, as if they were flirting. “Look at you, so pretty. I really did like you.” “I told you to be a good girl and lie on the bed, but you just had to go snooping through my things.” “You found out my secret. What could I do? I had to let you die!” “We haven’t even been together that long. I really hate to see you go.” As he spoke, he actually leaned in and planted two hard kisses on the woman’s bright red lips. The thick, foul stench of blood rushed to my nose. I almost threw up. I never, ever expected my husband to be such a sick freak. Holding a severed head, and he could actually kiss it! Is he some kind of psychopathic serial killer? And what was this secret he just mentioned? We’ve been married for four years. I’m the one who cleans the house. His phone password is my birthday, and I can look through it whenever I want. I’ve never noticed anything unusual! 2 I stared at Derek’s blood-stained face, twisted in a grotesque, eerie expression. He looked like a complete stranger. He kissed the head a few more times, then started humming again. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day…” While humming, he tossed the head into the black plastic bag, then bent down and reached under the bed to drag out the woman’s body. Only then did I see clearly that the woman had no clothes on. She had a curvy figure, her waist shockingly thin. If she were alive, who knows how captivating she would be. But now, that slender waist had been slashed with a massive knife, looking as if she had been sliced in half. A small section of her intestines was even spilling out. Derek reached out, slowly stroking that bloody, mangled piece of intestine, a look of slight heartbreak crossing his face. “What a shame. I didn’t want to kill you so soon!” After saying that, he turned and went to the kitchen, coming back with a heavy meat cleaver. He crouched on the floor and began expertly dismembering the body. Watching him slice meat and separate bones, stroke by stroke, a wave of intense nausea washed over me. I was on the verge of vomiting. Everyone’s heard of the legendary master butcher, right? The kind whose technique is so practiced and superb that the blade slides precisely into the gaps between the joints without ever needing to hack forcefully. That’s the exact vibe Derek gave me. His movements as he dismembered the body were smooth and fluid; it was almost too seamless. I barely heard any sounds of chopping bone. He was clearly reveling in his own skill, a smug expression on his face. Soon, he had dismantled both legs, separated and piled the bones, chopped the meat into pieces, and stuffed it all into the black plastic bag. He stood up, stretched, and suddenly, his gaze stopped. His expression changed drastically. 3 I looked in the direction his gaze had fixed on, my eyes instantly widening in terror, cold sweat pouring down my back. It was my earring! I instinctively touched my earlobe; my left ear was indeed bare. It must have fallen off when I was frantically tearing through the room earlier. Derek furrowed his brow tightly, walked over, and picked up the earring. “Why do I remember Brooke wearing these earrings when she went out?” This pair of pearl earrings was a birthday gift from Derek. I loved them. Before leaving the house, I even specifically chose an outfit to match them. Derek teased me, saying people usually pick jewelry to match their clothes, but I was doing it backward. Derek obviously remembered this scene too, and his expression grew increasingly grim. He raised his head, carefully scanning the room, his eyes darting everywhere. I was so terrified I held my breath. The next second, I realized something and immediately pulled my phone from my pocket. My palms were drenched in sweat, my fingers slipping wildly against the glass. I tapped the screen several times but couldn’t get it to unlock. My whole body was shaking, my heart practically leaping out of my throat. Through the louvered wooden door, I saw Derek pick up his phone from the nightstand and dial my number. My phone wasn’t on silent. If it rang, I was dead meat! In the nick of time, a flash of inspiration hit me. I just pressed and held the power button on the side to shut the phone off! And right at that moment, I heard a clear female voice echo in the quiet bedroom. “The subscriber you have dialed is currently unavailable.” 4 “The subscriber you have dialed is currently unavailable.” After trying a few times, Derek’s frown deepened. “Why is it turned off all of a sudden? Did the battery die?” “Forget it, I’m probably just overthinking. There’s no way she’d be back so soon.” “That silly girl probably lost the earring before she even left the house.” Derek shook his head and chuckled, slipping the earring into his pocket before going back to dismembering the body. For about half an hour, he separated all the bones and chopped meat, bagging them into different large black plastic bags, and took them to the kitchen. Hiding in the closet, my legs had gone completely numb from crouching. The sound of running water came from the kitchen. I rolled my numb ankles and carefully pushed the closet door open a crack. Our apartment’s layout had been remodeled. The small room next to the kitchen was opened up to create a dining area, and the kitchen sliding door opened towards that side too. Between the dining area and the living room, there was a cabinet partition. Which meant, if I slipped out of the master bedroom without making a sound, I could walk straight to the front door without catching Derek’s attention. I planned to use this opportunity to escape. As for how this would end, I had no idea, and I didn’t have the luxury to think that far ahead. Right now, I just desperately wanted to get away from Derek, this murderer. 5 I opened the closet door and stood still for a few seconds, letting the feeling return to my legs. Then, tiptoeing, trying my absolute hardest not to make a single sound, I slowly moved toward the front door. One step, two steps, three steps. The dark red security door was right in front of me! Derek was still in the kitchen, intently washing things. The sound of running water hadn’t stopped. I had just grabbed the door handle, my knuckles white from gripping it so tight. Suddenly— Bang! Bang! Bang! Knocking exploded on the door without warning, startling me so badly I shook all over. “Brooke? Derek? Are you guys home?” It was the neighbor, Mrs. Gable. Her voice was loud and carried an irrepressible excitement. Almost instantly, the water in the kitchen stopped. My scalp prickled. I immediately yanked my hand back and looked around frantically. The living room was wide open with nowhere to hide; only the heavy, L-shaped fabric sofa had its side facing the front door. I practically dove behind the corner of the sofa, curling up into a ball, my heart pounding like a drum. Derek’s footsteps grew closer, brushing past the sofa where I hid, heading toward the door. “Who is it?” He asked, his voice as calm as ever. “It’s me, Mrs. Gable from next door.” The voice outside grew even more enthusiastic. “I heard noise coming from your place, thought maybe Brooke was back?” “I just baked some fresh cornbread muffins. They’re Brooke’s favorite, still piping hot.” “Oh, Mrs. Gable.” Derek cracked the door open just a sliver, not all the way. “Brooke isn’t back yet. I was just in the kitchen chopping some bones for a rib stew. Want some, Mrs. Gable?” “Oh, is that so?” Mrs. Gable’s tone shifted, her eyes trying to peer through the crack in the door, looking like she wanted to squeeze her whole body inside. “That can’t be right. I think I saw her coming into the complex this afternoon.” “Did you two have a fight?” “Derek, you’re an honest man. You can’t be messing around behind our Brooke’s back!” 6 I lay flat on the cold tile floor, cold sweat drenching my back. Mrs. Gable lived right across the hall. She was straightforward, enthusiastic, and extremely nosy. She was the one who texted me to hurry back and catch my husband bringing a woman home. I never imagined that after sending the text, she’d actually come knocking to watch the drama unfold. This was going to get me killed! Hearing her words, Derek’s face predictably changed. “What do you mean?” “Isn’t Brooke coming back tomorrow? I’m the one who bought her the flight ticket.” “How could she be back today? Mrs. Gable, are you sure you didn’t see wrong?” Derek’s voice was still smiling, but beneath that smile, something had snapped taut. He gripped the door handle, his knuckles turning white. Mrs. Gable let out an “Oh my,” lowering her voice a bit, filled with the eager curiosity of someone who loves a good spectacle. “My kid, Toby, saw her. Said he ran into Brooke at the front gate half an hour ago. She even said hi to him. He wouldn’t make a mistake like that!” She paused, then her voice rose again, probing. “What, she didn’t come inside?” “Or did she come in, see something she shouldn’t have, you two fought, and she ran away?” Mrs. Gable narrowed her eyes, implying heavily. “Derek, you can’t be doing things like this!” “Brooke is such a good girl. Her parents treat you like their own son, always bringing you food, buying this and that, taking such good care of you.” “You can’t do anything stupid!” Derek’s face was livid, his jaw clenched tight. He stayed silent for a long time before forcing out a response. “Mrs. Gable, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Brooke really hasn’t come back, and there’s nothing shameful going on in this house.” He stepped aside, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” 7 Mrs. Gable let out an awkward, dry laugh. “Oh, listen to you. Why wouldn’t I believe you?” While grumbling internally, she figured I must have had something come up and gotten delayed somewhere in the complex. Otherwise, rushing back to catch him cheating and running into a woman caked in makeup, the two of us would have already blown the roof off. It wouldn’t be this dead quiet. Thinking this, Mrs. Gable shoved the plate of cornbread muffins into Derek’s hands, smiling apologetically: “I guess our Toby must have seen wrong.” “You go back to what you were doing. I won’t bother you anymore. If Brooke comes back, tell her I said hi.” “Yeah, okay. Thanks for checking in, Mrs. Gable.” Closing the door, Derek slowly turned around. He stood in place for a moment, the corners of his mouth inching up into a wide grin. “Baby~” “You’re back. Why aren’t you coming out?” “Are we playing hide-and-seek with Hubby?” As he spoke, he started walking. Unhurried, yet with a clear target, straight toward the sofa. The crisp sound of his footsteps exploded in my brain. I was paralyzed with terror, nearly fainting from the sheer fear. My mind went completely blank; I had no idea how to react. The footsteps stopped. Above my head, Derek’s deep voice sounded. “Ha, found you!” 8 My entire body went rigid. My neck popped and cracked as I mechanically raised my head. Derek crouched down, raising his hand to stroke the top of my head. “Brooke, you’ve been a bad girl. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” “AHHH—” I let out a blood-curdling scream. Derek moved fast. His hand slid swiftly down from the top of my head, clamping tightly over my mouth. The scream was muffled in my throat. I struggled desperately, using all my strength to push him. “Let me go! Let go!” Derek was tall and heavily built, incredibly strong. I couldn’t break free at all. With both my mouth and nose covered, my vision went black in waves. My chest tightened, suffocating. Soon, my eyes rolled back, and I passed out. When I woke up, I was lying on the sofa, covered with a thick blanket. Derek poked his head out from the dining room, calling me gently. “Honey, I figured it was time for you to wake up.” “You little sleepyhead, you sure can sleep. Come eat now that you’re awake.” “I simmered this rib stew for three whole hours. It smells amazing.” I jolted, bolting upright. For a split second, I almost suspected I was already dead. But the warm, thick blanket on me, and the autumn breeze blowing in from the balcony carrying that distinct, damp post-rain smell, reminded me I was still alive. I looked at Derek with terror and uncertainty, clutching the blanket tightly around me. Derek walked over carrying a white porcelain bowl. “Try it. You’ll love it.” A thick layer of milky-yellow oil floated in the bowl, with a few off-white bones bobbing inside. Just like the bones that had been chopped up earlier. My stomach heaved, and I nearly vomited. I forced it down, shrinking back against the cushions. “I need to use the bathroom.”

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Chapter 1 After five years of a long-distance relationship, my boyfriend and I called each other every day to solve our physical needs. When reaching the climax, Liam would always say to me, still wanting more, “Chloe, I miss you so much I’m going crazy…” So, I booked a red-eye flight back home, secretly hiding in his closet to give him a surprise. But when the bedroom door opened, Liam carried my best friend onto our marital bed. Mia rolled over and straddled him, unbuttoning his shirt one by one while saying coquettishly, “Liam, that idiot Chloe hasn’t figured out we’re together for five years. It’s so boring.” “She’s proposed to you ninety-nine times. How about we give her a surprise at our wedding next week?” I gripped the engagement ring in my palm tightly. My mind went completely blank. I saw Liam’s hand slip under her skirt, his voice lazy. “What’s the rush? I’ve already exiled her to Northern Europe, are you still worried?” Through the wood, the obscene sounds were magnified infinitely in my ears. And I, huddled in the closet covering my mouth, felt my heart completely die. … The two on the bed were stark naked, kissing passionately. Tears smashed hard onto my phone, the screen suddenly lighting up with a text from Liam. [Chloe, let’s not just do a voice call today, how about a video call?] Mia looked at the chat box and scoffed disdainfully. “Liam, it’s one thing to let her listen when we’re doing it, but today you actually dare to do a live broadcast?” Liam, biting her bra, smiled roguishly. “Guess if she dares to answer?” Before I could react, Liam’s video call was already ringing. With trembling hands, I tapped the screen several times before finally hitting decline. One was the man who had formed a human bridge in the rubble of an earthquake, protecting me underneath him, risking his life to save me. The other was the woman who single-handedly rescued me when the school bullies wanted to slash my face. And now, they were rolling in the sheets on the bed I bought for my wedding. The visual impact was too much for me. So much so that even after they used an entire box of condoms, I still couldn’t snap out of it. Liam lit a post-coital cigarette and slowly looked towards the closet. Our eyes met. My heart felt like it was viciously squeezed by someone. The next second, Liam blew a smoke ring, raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “Chloe, do you have some kind of voyeuristic fetish? How long are you going to hide in the closet?” Mia, on the bed, turned pale and scared, diving straight under the covers. Three seconds later. I stumbled out of the closet, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “I, I originally wanted to give you a surprise…” Liam slowly sat up and deliberately blew smoke in my face. “A surprise? The text confirmation for your flight was forwarded to my phone ages ago. What surprise could there be?” He reached under Mia’s skirt and threw a wet bunny tail plug at me. “Learn a thing or two. This is what you call a surprise.” I had proposed to him ninety-nine times, trying different methods every time. Just to repay him for saving my life. But now, all my efforts had become a joke. “Why? Why are you guys doing this to me…” Seeing my confused look, Liam said indifferently, “Why? Chloe, you didn’t think you could monopolize me, did you? Don’t be so selfish.” “Besides, every time I called you, Mia would moan. Could you really not hear it?” It turned out that every moment he said he missed me, his body was in negative-distance contact with Mia. I was trembling all over, my stomach churning. Mia pulled my nightgown over herself and put it on slowly, saying with a half-smile, “Chloe, didn’t you used to say you were willing to share everything with me?” “You’re so busy with work, I kindly helped Liam solve his physical problems. Shouldn’t you thank me?” I pushed her away hard, grabbed a picture frame, and smashed it at her. “Get out! Get the hell out!” Ironically, The photo of me and Liam in the frame had actually been replaced with one of Mia in a bikini. And Liam told me every day, that when he missed me, he could only look at my photo. Turns out it was this photo he was looking at. After a gasp. Liam blocked Mia without hesitation. The picture frame hit his forehead, and blood immediately flowed down. “Chloe, stop acting crazy, okay? It’s not like I don’t want you anymore.” “It’s not my fault I’m not marrying you. Don’t you ever look in the mirror to see where you stand?” “Mia and I are just having a wedding. As long as you don’t make a fuss, our relationship will never change.” I crazily grabbed everything I could reach and threw it at them. “Relationship? What relationship? The relationship where I’m the other woman?” “Get out! You pair of cheating scumbags, get the hell out of here!” The door slammed with a deafening noise. Looking at the messy bedroom, I violently threw the engagement ring clutched in my hand out the window. Then, as if possessed, I picked up a small piece of broken glass. Just like when I was a kid, I numbly pressed it against my wrist and slashed down. Chapter 2 All the love and hate spilled out along with the blood. In my haze, I thought of that earth-shattering afternoon seven years ago. The school building collapsed, and I was trapped under concrete slabs, waiting to die in despair. But Liam frantically dug through the rubble, using his bleeding hands to pull me out bit by bit. But the aftershocks continued. When a huge boulder came crashing toward us, he threw himself on top of me without hesitation, using his back to form a human bridge for me. Debris smashed onto his head, back, and face, yet he gritted his teeth and smiled at me. “Chloe, don’t be afraid. With me here, you won’t die.” After that, he was left with a hideous scar on his back. I touched that scar with trembling fingertips, weeping uncontrollably. But he smiled like a fool. “Why are you crying? This scar is the proof of my love for you.” And in high school, when I was cornered in an alley by a few bullies. They called me a fatherless bastard and threatened to slash my foxy face with a box cutter. It was Mia who charged in single-handedly, shielded me behind her, and pointed at them fiercely. “Just try and touch her!” From that day on, Mia accompanied me to and from school. She told me with absolute seriousness, “Chloe, we’re going to be best friends for life.” Waking up in the hospital. Liam’s gaze fell on the crisscrossing scars on my wrist, and he sighed softly. “Chloe, I always thought you were a smart person.” His voice was very low, like stating a long-understood fact. “What’s wrong with staying by my side?” “You know your background; I could never accept your proposal.” “All that talk about marrying you on the ninety-ninth time… was just to humor you.” Ever since my father eloped with his mistress, my mother’s mental state has been unstable. But Liam and Mia are both from wealthy New York families. Whenever someone pointed fingers behind my back, Liam and Mia would viciously slap their faces for me. I often asked myself, what did I do to deserve such a prince and princess taking such good care of me. Liam paused for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “Chloe, what do you really want? Money? Love? Or medical resources for your mother? Or…” He leaned in close, his words as light as a blade. “Do you want me to give you a child?” Motherhood as a ticket to status is a proven method. Using all my remaining strength, I slapped him hard across the face. “I want you to get lost! Don’t ever let me see you again in this lifetime!” Liam froze for a second. He slowly touched his cheek with his long fingers, then smiled, grinding his back teeth. The hospital room door was pushed open again. Mia walked in carrying a basket of mangoes, her laughter light and deliberate. “Oh my, my good best friend, playing hard to get again?” She walked over to Liam, her eyes sliding sideways over me. “Liam got tired of that seven years ago. It’s really inappropriate to play it now.” Saying that, she started peeling a mango for me. But I’m allergic to mangoes. Mia knew this from the very first day we met. She deliberately showed off the dazzling diamond ring on her ring finger. Liam once said, he would buy his future wife the biggest, brightest diamond ring. Thinking of when I accidentally gouged a piece of flesh from my palm while personally crafting a wedding ring for Liam, a dense, fine pain flared up in my heart again. Mia handed the peeled mango to me, and I just swatted it onto the floor. The juice stained her dress. Liam’s eyes darkened instantly. “Chloe, if you have any grievances, take them out on me!” “Mia has been good enough to you! She doesn’t even mind me keeping you after we’re married! What more do you want?!” Mia looked at me aggrievedly. “Chloe, do you really need to target me like this?” I was just about to kick them out, when two trending topics popped up on my phone. The first was the joyous news of the marriage alliance between the two powerful families of Liam and Mia. But the second was the record of my relationship with Liam over the past seven years. The comment section was full of people scolding Mia for throwing her weight around and knowingly being the other woman. Liam’s usually unruly face suddenly turned dark. He squeezed a few words out through gritted teeth. “Chloe, you’re such a bitch…” Chapter 3 But I haven’t logged into any social media accounts since I woke up. Mia grabbed my wrist and roared. “Chloe! People need dignity to live, are you trying to force me to death?!” “Your life was saved by Liam, and your face was saved by me! Even your job in Northern Europe was introduced by us! Liam and I don’t ask you for anything in return, but how can you bite the hand that feeds you?!” During the struggle, the wound on my wrist split open. Drops of blood smashed onto the bedsheets. But Liam just looked at me with a disappointed gaze. I took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “It wasn’t me.” But Liam directly grabbed my phone, skillfully entering his birthday to unlock it. Then he pointed to a transfer record of ten thousand dollars and questioned me coldly. “If it’s not you, then what is this?” He didn’t know this was the medical fee I advanced for my mother’s surgery. He threw the phone at me, shielded Mia, turned around, and left. Half an hour later. Liam used his family company’s official Twitter to post his and Mia’s marriage certificate. The date was seven years ago. Which was the very day Liam and I made our relationship official. They had gone and gotten their marriage certificate. My heart ached to the point of numbness, yet I couldn’t shed a single tear. Public opinion reversed. Countless netizens cursed me for knowingly being the other woman, and even trying to sow discord between a married couple. My personal information was quickly doxxed. My work email was stuffed with abusive letters, and my social media DMs turned into a swamp of filthy insults. Even more fatally, my boss all the way in Northern Europe called to fire me directly. Liam easily crushed everything I had spent years struggling to build. And my father abandoning his wife and child back then was magnified infinitely. “Chloe’s dad didn’t want her mom, and Liam doesn’t want her either. This mother and daughter are destined to be mistresses for life!” “And she’s so smug posting chat logs, thinking that will hurt the great Miss Mia? What a clown!” “So disgusting, how do people like this still have the face to live in this world? Chloe and her mother should just go die!” My college group chat also exploded. “Wasn’t Liam’s girlfriend always Chloe? Why is the person on the marriage certificate Mia?” “You guys don’t know this, right? Actually, the person Liam has always liked is Mia. During the earthquake back then, Liam thought the person buried was Mia, that’s why he went to save her!” “So Chloe, that simp, harassed Liam for all those years? Wow, she’s been a mistress since her student days?” Seeing this message, I almost couldn’t stand up. Just as I was about to fall, Mia suddenly caught me. She looked at my deathly pale face and said with a giggling smile. “Chloe, do you know why Liam pursued you?” She lowered her voice and enunciated every word. “Because, I have a certain kink.” “Liam loves me too much, so he lowered himself to seduce you. And now, I’m bored with playing, so it’s time for you to get lost!” “Oh right, the day after tomorrow is my wedding with Liam. As my best friend, you absolutely must come.” As Mia turned to leave, she deliberately shoved a prenatal checkup report into my hand. “The crystallization of Liam and my love, four months along now.” The world crashed down around me. Liam’s past devotion, those vows that sounded better than sweet nothings. It turned out to be just a game. Liam’s call suddenly rang. But I didn’t answer. Soon he sent a text message. [Chloe, don’t believe the nonsense people in the group chat are saying. After Mia and I are married, I will give you an explanation.] I pinched my palm tightly and typed. [Every time you called me Chloe, you were actually calling out to Mia, weren’t you?] The person on the other end of the phone fell silent. The tears I had held back for so long finally fell. I don’t know how long I stood in the cold wind. I wiped my tears and dialed a long-forgotten number. “Mr. Quinn, I agree to join your Arctic project. For the three years I’m gone, please make sure to take good care of my mother.” The other party nodded crisply and responded. “No problem, I’ll send a private jet to pick up your mother right now.” As soon as the call disconnected, my mother’s caregiver called immediately. “Ms. Davis, it’s terrible, something happened to your mother!” Chapter 4 When I found my mother, she was pinned to the ground by several maids, barely clinging to life. Her back was already lacerated and bloody, yet she continued to glare fiercely at Mia. “I’m going to kill you! Kill you!” Mia had three bloody scratches on her face, clearly from my mother. She gripped the whip in her hand and said through gritted teeth, “Tomorrow is the wedding! How am I supposed to see anyone with this face?” “You old hag! There are still 99 lashes left! I’m going to beat you to death today!” Realizing what was happening, I immediately rushed forward to protect my mother. But the doctors clearly said my mother’s condition had been improving over the years. Why did she suddenly go crazy? Crack! The whip lashed fiercely across my body. I cried out in pain. Mia, however, looked down at me from above with a triumphant sneer. “Hahaha, Chloe, your mother couldn’t compete with my mother, and look now, you can’t compete with me either.” My body stiffened. “What did you say?” My gaze followed to the family portrait in her hand. My father, who had abandoned his wife and child, was lovingly holding another woman’s waist. It turned out Mia’s mother was the mistress from back then! Mia’s laughter echoed in my ears. “Serves you right. Who told your mother to call my mother a mistress back then! Now that you’ve become a real mistress, I’ve finally vented my mother’s anger!” “Let me tell you the truth, I approved the day you and Liam made your relationship official. You were willing to be a simp just because Liam treated you slightly well. Have you never been loved by anyone? Pathetic worm.” “Now, either you take these 99 lashes for this old hag, or I start a livestream right now and tell the whole world that both you and your mother are mistresses hahaha…” Every word was like a poisoned needle, piercing into my deepest wounds. Anger rushed to my head, and I charged at Mia like a madwoman. But just as my fingertips touched her sleeve, Liam’s furious voice suddenly erupted from behind. “Chloe! Don’t you dare!” He kicked me viciously aside, his eyes fixed on the sharp scissors on the ground. “Crazy! If you want to die, go die yourself! Don’t touch Mia!” Holding my bloodied mother, I wept silently. Liam paused slightly. Instinctively, he moved to help me. But Mia stumbled and threw herself into his arms, crying a river of tears. “Liam, Chloe said her mother is crazy and won’t have to pay with her life for murder!” “It doesn’t matter if something happens to me, but the baby in my belly…” The sliver of pity on Liam’s face towards me abruptly vanished. The bodyguards immediately understood, grabbed the whip from the floor, and lashed me fiercely. Agonizing pain instantly swept over my entire body. I screamed in agony. But Liam refused to spare me another glance. At that moment, my mother, who had been on her last breath, suddenly shielded me tightly in her arms. Her cloudy eyes were full of tears as she whispered in my ear, “My sweet girl, it’s Mom’s fault for being useless and letting you suffer so much. This time, let Mom protect you…” Listening to her increasingly faint breathing, I cried and begged Liam for help. “I admit my mistake, I apologize, please, I beg you, save my mom!” But no matter how much I pleaded, there was no response. My tears dried up, and the 99 lashes were finished. When my mother slipped into shock from blood loss, Liam walked out of the room. He finally deigned to give me a glance. “Taking a few lashes won’t kill you. You turning out like this is also your mother’s fault! It’s just what you mother and daughter need to learn a lesson!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, crying until I started laughing. “Liam, I really wish I had never met you in this life.” Liam stood up and let out a cold laugh. “Alright, don’t cause trouble at the wedding. I can buy a villa for your mother for her retirement. You’ll live with us. If you feel uncomfortable, you can live next door.” I shook my head numbly. “No, we won’t be seeing each other again.” “Heh, suit yourself.” With that, Liam scooped Mia up in his arms and headed straight for the hospital. On the day of the wedding. Liam’s wedding convoy got into a car accident. Arriving at the hospital, he suddenly saw my mother’s caregiver carrying bags of belongings and heading out. Ignoring his own injuries, Liam went up and asked. “Auntie, where are you going? Aren’t you taking care of Chloe’s mother anymore?” The caregiver looked at him like he was an idiot and grumbled. “Are you crazy? Today is Ms. Davis’s mother’s funeral. Are you telling me to go down to the underworld to take care of her?!”

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After the New Year, I unexpectedly noticed that the compact car I’d bought before marriage was being driven out every afternoon. During dinner, I casually asked my husband: “Ian, darling, who have you lent my car to? I thought you said that model was too small, only women liked it.” His chopsticks paused mid-air. He quickly pulled out a receipt from the dealership and handed it to me: “I was worried the car would deteriorate from sitting too long, so I sent it for maintenance.” He spoke, then picked up a piece of braised fish and placed it in my bowl, smiling considerately: “What’s wrong? Didn’t you say I wasn’t allowed to sell that car because it held our memories? I just wanted to surprise you.” His explanation was flawless. I lowered my head and continued eating, but an uneasy feeling grew within me. The next day, I passed by that dealership and showed them the receipt: “Hello, my husband brought the car here for maintenance; I’d like to pick it up now.” The manager nodded, about to retrieve the car for me. Just then, a girl walked in through the front door, approached the counter, and said, “I’m here to pick up Mr. Vance’s car.” But what she held in her hand was clearly my car key. 1 The moment our eyes met, a flicker of panic crossed the girl’s face. Although she quickly composed herself, she changed the subject as if she didn’t know me: “I just remembered I have something to do this afternoon. I’ll leave the key here. You can just deliver the car to garage 801 at the Oceanview Estate.” Her voice was trembling. She didn’t dare to linger for another moment after speaking, turning to leave. I watched her retreating back. The young woman was quick-witted, trying to pretend she was just an intern running an errand to lessen my suspicion about her holding my car key. But she didn’t know that Ian Vance was a germaphobe; he never let outsiders touch his belongings. Especially not this compact car, which held such significant meaning for us. I glanced at the key she’d placed on the counter, my heart sinking little by little. I lifted my foot and followed her. Sensing my presence, her steps quickened. After failing to hail a cab for a long time by the roadside, I stood beside her. She timidly looked up: “Are, are you also waiting for a cab?” I didn’t answer her. My gaze first fell on the bag she was carrying. The latest luxury brand, more expensive than her entire outfit. Just two days ago, Ian had given me an identical one. On her wrist, she wore an icy jade bangle, which, by coincidence, clearly matched the one on my wrist. I couldn’t help but recall my birthday, when Ian kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear: “Aurora, I told you I’d give you a unique gift every year. This bangle I carved myself. I’ll love you forever.” A sneer played on my lips. It seemed Mr. Vance, the acclaimed actor, was addicted to acting, no longer distinguishing between reality and a billionaire CEO drama. The girl noticed my gaze and awkwardly hid her bag behind her back: “If you’re in a hurry, I can let you go first.” Her eyes were filled with defensiveness and fear. I smiled, continuing to walk closer to her, then extended my hand: “See, I have a bangle exactly like yours, but my husband said he carved it himself. So I just wanted to ask you, where did you buy it wholesale?” “Once I find the evidence, I’ll divorce him. We’ve only been married ten years, and he’s already getting complacent with me. I’m afraid he’s… seeing someone else.” Hearing that last sentence, her face instantly went pale, and she became even more flustered: “I, I can’t remember which street vendor I bought it from.” “Never mind then. But we’re still quite fated. My name is Aurora Xu, what’s yours?” “Skylar Lynn.” Oh. Even the last initial of her name was ‘L’. Just then, a public bus arrived, and Skylar fled onto it, leaving. I, too, turned around, my face instantly hardening. I returned to the dealership, retrieved my car, and opened the door. Then I noticed something else was wrong. The good luck charm hanging in front of the car had been replaced with a plush toy. I suppressed my emotions, pulled out my phone, and called my best friend: “Can you help me find out if Ian Vance has truly been filming on set every day recently? Also, what’s his relationship with a girl named Skylar Lynn!” My best friend was an investor in his new show. Hearing this, she asked, puzzled: “Aurora, what happened?” “I suspect Ian is cheating…” Before I even got home, my best friend had sent over the information. She still seemed a bit incredulous. The data showed that while Skylar Lynn and Ian Vance had indeed acted together in one project, other than that, Ian had only visited her school for movie promotions. The two had not met privately since. One could say they were strangers. My best friend called back: “You’re overthinking it, aren’t you? Back then, Ian announced his marriage to you at the peak of his career, Aurora… you two are the entertainment industry’s model couple.” I held my phone, but smiled: “You said ‘back then.’ If it’s really that clean, why do you think Skylar Lynn had my car key?” This car was the first one we bought on installment with the money we earned when he was still an extra. Even after he became an acclaimed actor and we owned many luxury cars, this humble compact car had always quietly remained in the garage. “How about we make a bet? Let’s completely blacklist Skylar Lynn and see Ian Vance’s reaction?” After hanging up, I sat in the car, touching the dashboard. Ian, it’s been ten years. I accompanied you from living in the poorest basement all the way to where you are now. If you truly betrayed me. Don’t blame me for making you lose everything and ruining your reputation, just like the vow you made back then! 2 When I got home, I found that Ian had surprisingly returned from the set again. He was even wearing the hoodie I bought him. I recalled fan comments: “[Married, yet no hint of a husband, just pure youthful charm. Ian Vance is a divine being!]” “[Aurora Xu must have saved the world in her past life to marry Ian Vance.]” I used to think I was very lucky too. He pulled me into his arms. “Who dared to make my wife come home so late? Did Old Man Sterling torture you again, making you revise the script repeatedly? Should I go for the casting instead?” I pressed my lips together, suddenly wanting to ask him directly who Skylar Lynn was. Just to give him a chance. However, he took my hand, played with it, and continued: “I heard Old Man Sterling invested three hundred million in this show and plans to use new faces. You went to the Academy of Dance and Arts today, right? Did you find anyone suitable?” His probing words instantly choked me up, and a chill shot from my spine to the top of my head: “How did you know I went to the Academy of Dance and Arts?” Ian’s hand stiffened, but he quickly grabbed my hand again, laughing: “Aren’t newcomers always chosen from those few schools? Aurora, I just care about you.” “This script is your mother’s unfinished work before she passed away. She was suspected of unfair casting and suffered online bullying, leading to depression. I’m afraid you’ll fall into those bad things again.” He seemed genuinely worried about me, no longer pressing the issue, and carried me back to the room. But in the middle of the night, I feigned sleep. He, however, picked up his phone and messaged someone. And for the next few days, every time I finished a conversation with Old Man Sterling, he would “coincidentally” return from the set, either cooking for me or buying me gifts. Yet, each time, he would subtly probe about the new show’s casting. The smile on my face grew increasingly rare. Until a week later, Skylar Lynn’s scandal of hooking up with a sugar daddy suddenly hit the trending topics, also mixed with ambiguous videos of her bribing teachers at school. Although she wasn’t very famous, her social impact was negative. Her acting career was clearly about to be blocked. My best friend called, her voice excited: “It took me a week to find enough scandals to blacklist her, Aurora. Someone is really helping her behind the scenes.” I immediately arranged for someone to keep a close eye on Ian’s movements. Sure enough, he took leave from the set that afternoon, first went to Skylar Lynn’s school, and then met with the media company that released the video. What he didn’t know was that as soon as he left, the people there called me, their tone playful: “Aurora Xu, he said he’d exchange a dinner with you for taking down the trending topic. What do you say, should I agree to him or agree to him?” I clenched my hands, laughing bitterly with anger: “Of course, agree to him!” But as I laughed, tears couldn’t help but fall. I had thought he was cheating, but I never expected him to use me as a bargaining chip. Since that’s the case. I abruptly hung up the phone, grabbed my bag, and rushed home, originally intending to prepare to discuss divorce with Ian. Who knew that as soon as I reached the garage, I suddenly found two handprints on the window of that compact car parked in the corner. I stared intently at the fresh-looking prints, my steps faltering, leaning against the wall to barely keep myself from falling. I didn’t open the car door, only feeling a surge of nausea. He actually brought that woman home, and might even be hiding in the car with her right now. Ian Vance, you truly disgust me! 3 I stumbled upstairs in a daze that day. Ian, clever as ever, didn’t follow me back, not even a call. Sleepless all night, at dawn I asked my best friend to find me a lawyer. I sent all the evidence I had gathered to the lawyer. The lawyer said that while I could ruin Ian Vance’s reputation, without concrete evidence, I would only get half the assets. I immediately went to check the surveillance footage, but last night’s video had been silently deleted. Indeed, not a single trace left behind. Two more days passed. Then Old Man Sterling’s assistant suddenly called me: “Ms. Xu, Mr. Vance visited Old Man Sterling alone yesterday, saying you entrusted him with the casting? He wants to start casting early. Old Man Sterling asked me to confirm with you.” I paused, then sneered. It seemed Ian, seeing that my script was ready but I was unwilling to let him handle the casting, was getting anxious from that little vixen’s pestering? He knew Old Man Sterling would definitely notify me. I wanted to see how he’d explain himself. That evening, Ian called: “Darling, today I passed by Old Man Sterling’s place after a dinner party, and went up to ask him to allow me to handle the casting for you.” “You haven’t appeared in public for years, and I don’t want you to be affected by public opinion again. If anything happens… just let me bear it, alright?” Listening to his affectionate and concerned tone, my nails were almost digging into my flesh. But I still agreed with a smile. Not long after, my best friend sent me a photo. Her people had finally caught Ian meeting Skylar Lynn alone, a worthwhile expense given how much I paid several media outlets. After that, to help Skylar Lynn meet Old Man Sterling’s requirements, Ian began to expose himself frequently. First, he stole my revised script. During the day, he filmed, and in the evenings, he dined and socialized with me. Late at night, he still had to go and explain the script to Skylar Lynn. My best friend couldn’t help but exclaim in anger: “He’s truly a master of time management! And that Skylar Lynn, she’s not even that pretty, but Ian Vance insists on promoting her.” “Aurora, half the entertainment industry now knows he’s problematic… everyone’s waiting to laugh at you.” After hearing her, I just told her to collect more evidence. Even people I had feuded with came by, making veiled remarks, mocking me, saying what good was my arrogance now if I couldn’t even control my own man. The day before casting, Ian specially came home and cooked me a meal himself. The dining table was filled with all my favorite dishes: Longjing shrimp, lotus root and pork rib soup. “Darling, I heard from Old Man Sterling that you’re going directly to the set tomorrow, not the casting audition?” He asked, probing. I took a bite of shrimp; it used to taste incredibly fresh and fragrant, but now I felt a little nauseous. Lowering my head, I hid a sneer in my eyes: “Yeah, Old Man Sterling asked me to set up the venue first. Besides, don’t I have you for the casting?” I clearly saw a flicker of triumph in his eyes. Someone who once loved me so much, yet insisted on destroying something I had poured all my heart and soul into, and betrayed me. He held my hand: “Darling, don’t worry. I know how important this show is to you. After filming… I’ll go with you to visit your mother.” He still had the nerve to see my mother. I silently withdrew my hand. For the sake of the past ten years, I decided to give him one last chance, staring into his eyes and saying: “Ian Vance, do you still remember why my mother wrote this script?” “That year, my father cheated, bringing his mistress and their son to my mother’s face. My parents were childhood sweethearts. She wrote this script during her most painful time.” He seemed to suddenly remember this as well, and his expression started to change: “Of course I remember, Aurora. Have you heard anything recently?” “It’s all just gossip cooked up by the company for publicity. You know, I’d give my life for you.” Saying this, he leaned in, trying to kiss my lips, his hand beginning to wander over my body. I was already physically repulsed by him, and I pushed him away. Using the excuse of needing to pack, I returned to my room first. He didn’t know that as soon as I entered the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth over a dozen times. My phone chimed twice; it was a message from my best friend: [Aurora, you guessed it! That scumbag Ian Vance really cheated!] [Damn it, he often drove your compact car to deserted outskirts, and the two of them were in the car in the middle of the night… so disgusting.] [Now we have the evidence. Should we send the lawyer’s letter immediately?] I looked at my somewhat disheveled self in the mirror. [No, send the evidence to the lawyer first. I still want to give him a grand gift!] Ian Vance wants Skylar Lynn to step on me to climb to the top, paving her way to become an award-winning actress through me… Now that the evidence was conclusive, I tidied my hair and smiled at myself in the mirror. This time, I won’t hold back!

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1 Under the live stream’s gaze. My philanthropic father and influencer mother were staging a custody battle. Mom, an influencer, was crying crocodile tears to millions of viewers. “I haven’t been able to be there for Autumn these past years. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.” But just ten minutes ago, backstage, she’d shoved 19 potent cold pills into my mouth. “Be a good girl, Autumn. Don’t look sickly on camera and ruin my reputation.” My eyes streamed with tears from choking, but I nestled into her arms. “Mom, you’re so thoughtful. You even calculated the exact dosage.” My father, not to be outdone, publicly announced he would set up a billion-dollar educational fund for me. “Dad will give you the best of everything in the world.” He leaned close to my ear, his voice chilling. “Be obedient, or I can’t guarantee your grandmother’s oxygen tube will stay connected.” I hunched my shoulders. “Dad, a billion is too far away. I’m quite short-sighted when it comes to money.” I held up a QR code for payments. “Five hundred thousand.” “Whoever transfers the money first, I’ll go with them.” They scrambled to send the transfers. “PayPal: Five hundred thousand dollars received.” I whispered in my mind. “System, the money is enough to pay off Grandma’s medical bills.” … “After I’m gone, will she truly live a long and healthy life?” System: “Host, the contract is complete. Countdown initiated.” I saw the live stream’s comments explode. “OMG, is this kid only seeing dollar signs?” “Her parents love her so much, and she only cares about money? Ungrateful brat!” “If I had parents like that, I’d wake up laughing every day. She’s publicly asking for money, it’s disgusting.” My mother, Joanna Reed, quick as a flash, pulled me into a hug, her tears turning into a broken smile for the camera. “See, everyone, Autumn is still closest to her mom.” She held me very tight, but her fingertips sharply pinched the soft flesh on my waist. Leaning close to my ear, her voice was sickly sweet. “Autumn, how could you publicly ask Mom for money?” The overdose of cold medicine surged through me in waves, my stomach churning violently. I didn’t answer her. I opened the hospital payment page. Five hundred thousand, transferred to the hospital account. Then, I slumped further into her embrace. “Mom, I’m so sleepy…” “Sleep if you’re sleepy.” She held me even tighter, her lips curving into a loving smile for the camera. “Mommy’s got you.” My father, Marcus Black, his face ashen, still maintained that fake, suave smile. “Since Autumn chose you, let her stay with you for a few days.” “However, she must attend the charity gala.” He walked over to adjust my collar, lowering his voice: “Don’t forget your grandmother is still in my hospital.” “Dare to say anything out of line, and I’ll have them cut off her oxygen.” When Grandma was awake, she would write in my palm, over and over, with her fingertip. “Don’t beg them.” I nodded, and she finally released my hand. I lifted my face, looking obedient. “Don’t worry, Dad.” Marcus patted my face with satisfaction, then turned and waved goodbye to the camera. As soon as the live stream ended, the loving expression on Joanna’s face vanished. She pushed me away as if I were trash. I lost my footing, my temple hitting the sharp edge of the dressing table. Warm blood trickled down my eyebrow. “Give me your phone!” She lunged to snatch my phone, her eyes red. “That was my budget for traffic, you cheap life! You think you’re worthy of five hundred thousand?” I slumped to the floor, blood blurring my left eye. “Mom,” I gasped, my voice weak. “You said in the live stream… this was to compensate me.” “Compensate your mother’s head!” She kicked me in the ribs, and I doubled over in pain. A lazy, mocking laugh echoed from the doorway. “Joanna, don’t break her.” A young man with dyed blonde hair and smelling of cigarette smoke strolled in. It was Mom’s boyfriend, Jason. He pulled out his phone and casually started a live stream on a burner account. The camera zoomed into my face. “Families, did you see clearly?” “This is Joanna’s poor daughter she brought home.” His gaze slowly slid from the blood on my forehead to my neckline. Joanna’s eyes lit up, and she immediately played along. “Families, don’t scold Autumn. She’s just been mistreated by the old woman…” Jason pushed the camera even closer. “Come on, Autumn. Say to the camera… how your grandmother mistreated you?” My brow involuntarily furrowed. As soon as I looked up, he had already squatted down, pretending to fix my bangs. His fingertip brushed my temple, pausing for half a second. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, laughing. “I just want to see how obedient you can be.” I lowered my head, my voice trembling faintly. “I… I don’t remember.” Jason clicked his tongue impatiently, reaching out to lift my chin. I turned my face away, letting his fingers miss. Joanna leaned close to my ear, her voice low and biting. “Just say that the old woman mistreated you, and we’ll get the traffic.” I swallowed the sour bile, timidly saying. “I… I’m afraid it will affect Dad.” Jason smiled at the live stream. “Families, how about we give her some time?” Saying that, he ended the live stream. Joanna rolled her eyes, pointing to the end of the hallway. “There’s a folding bed in the utility room.” “You can sleep there.” I nodded, accepting. Walking to the end of the hallway, I asked in my mind. “System, is the countdown still on?” The light screen lit up: “Host, 7 days, 19 hours, 59 minutes remaining.” 2 I curled up on the creaking folding bed. The side effects of the medicine made the ceiling spin. The door was kicked open with a bang. “Autumn Black, are you dead? If not, get up now!” Joanna stood at the doorway, her makeup flawless. I slowly stood straight, leaning on the wall, blood matted in my bangs on my forehead. “Mom, is this… enough to get some camera traffic?” She scanned me with disdain. “Don’t call me Mom. Only on camera.” She turned and yelled towards the living room. “Jason, get the white dress. Leave half the wound exposed, don’t cover it all.” “A little blood, and the viewers will be more willing to send gifts.” Jason walked over, carrying the white dress, grinning. “Joanna, how about I use my account? Your account handles sales, and my account handles the emotional drama.” He said, propping up his phone, the camera aimed at me, not even using a beauty filter. “Come on, Autumn, let’s practice a line first.” He held up a cue card in front of my eyes. “I never had a single full meal at Grandma’s house.” I stared at the line, my throat tightening. Joanna leisurely lit a cigarette nearby. “Read it.” Jason took a step closer, helping me adjust the microphone on my collar. His fingertip brushed lightly above my collarbone, with a deliberate pause. He chuckled softly: “Be a good girl. It’s good for you.” I took half a step back. “I… Grandma…” “Too fake.” Jason impatiently interrupted, reaching out to cup my chin. “You need to cry, your eyes need to show hatred, understand?” I turned my head to dodge, clutching the hem of my dress. “No need, I’ll do it myself.” He snorted, then gave my hand a sharp pinch before leaving. “Hurry up, don’t waste the traffic.” I walked into the live stream room. Dozens of ring lights illuminated me, making me look pale. Joanna’s lines were well-practiced. “Families, Autumn is such a poor child; her grandmother never took good care of her…” She pulled me close, pushing the wound on my forehead towards the camera. “See, she’s even unsteady on her feet.” “This is from falling yesterday. My heart just aches for her.” Gift effects instantly exploded across the screen. Jason, off-camera, held up a cue card, silently mouthing with exaggerated lips: Say it now! I saw private messages scrolling on his phone screen. Someone asked: “Did the old woman really mistreat her?” He replied with an emoji, then sent another message. “Of course, there’s more explosive stuff coming. Stay tuned.” I leaned against Joanna’s embrace, my voice weak. “Mom, don’t worry… it doesn’t hurt.” Joanna seized the moment to start selling products. “Today, bird’s nest is at a rock-bottom price. Everyone, help me raise medical funds for Autumn, okay?” She brought a spoon to my lips, smiling affectionately. “Come, darling, tell everyone, is it delicious?” I swallowed the sickeningly sweet syrup, my stomach cramping. “Delicious… Thank you, Mom. Mom is the best to me.” The second the live stream ended, Joanna slapped me across the face. “Your eyes weren’t grateful enough when you looked at the camera just now.” “Do you still think I owe you something?” I turned my head, and blood seeped from my forehead wound again. “Mom, I’m sorry.” I swallowed the bitterness on my tongue, my voice faltering. “I’ll be a better girl next time.” She wanted to hit me again. Jason hugged her from behind. “Alright, Joanna, don’t hurt her. Her face is valuable now.” Joanna snorted, taking a cigarette. “Autumn Black, get back to your room.” I returned to the utility room. The moment I closed the door, I knelt on the floor and dry-heaved violently. Only sour bile and the taste of medicine came up. My phone vibrated. The head nurse replied to me, “Received, medication renewed.” I read that line twice before I dared to swallow my tears. Grandma had lived another day. 3 Marcus Black’s mansion was a hundred times more luxurious than Joanna’s apartment. Seraphina Willow sat on the sofa, wearing a silk robe. She was Marcus’s personal assistant, and also the mistress of this house. Seeing me enter, she didn’t even lift an eyelid. “Oh, the young lady is back? Martha, go clean up the guest room.” “No need.” Marcus walked out of the study, impeccably dressed in a suit. “Autumn will stay in the room converted from the basement’s media room. It’s quiet.” I looked at my shadow on the floor, nodding obediently. “Thank you, Dad.” He pointed to the clothes on the sofa. A deep V that plunged to the navel, an almost entirely open back, and a skirt so short that every step would reveal too much. “Wear this tonight. Go try it on.” I picked up the fabric, thin as a cicada’s wing. “Dad, this dress… isn’t it too revealing?” “What? Disgusted?” He frowned. “Your grandmother’s medical bills are thousands a day. This is all I can afford.” He glanced at me again. “Besides, Mr. Davis loves this style. Who are you dressing modestly for?” Seraphina immediately stepped forward, seemingly speaking on my behalf. “Mr. Black, how about we change it? Autumn is still young, I’m afraid she won’t be comfortable.” But the next second, she added. “However… if it’s for Grandma, then Autumn should be a sensible child for once, alright?” Before I could answer, she had already taken the dress from my hand. “Come, I’ll help you.” Seraphina helped me put on the gown, her fingertip gently tugging down at the neckline. I instinctively raised my hand to cover myself. She gripped my wrist. “Don’t block it. Blocking it will make you look guilty.” “If you’re not guilty, no one will think anything.” After changing, I was called to the living room. Marcus was seated at the head, next to a balding man with an oily face. “Go, pour Mr. Lee a drink.” Marcus lifted his chin towards me. Wearing that gown that barely covered any private parts, every step I took was precarious. Mr. Lee’s sticky gaze scanned back and forth between my chest and legs. As I picked up the glass, Mr. Lee deliberately wobbled it, splashing an entire glass of whiskey onto my exposed shoulder and neck. “Oh dear, my hand is so slippery. Autumn, quickly help Uncle wipe it off.” He grabbed my hand, pressing it onto his greasy thigh. I trembled all over, looking at Marcus. He merely calmly glanced at his watch. “Be quick about it. If you can’t even serve Mr. Lee properly, how will you handle Mr. Davis tonight?” Seraphina took a bucket of ice and poured it directly down my neckline. “This will wake you up, see how cold and clear your skin looks. Men absolutely fall for this.” The ice cubes pressed against the bruises on my chest, the chill instantly piercing my bones. I knelt on the floor, picking up the fallen ice cubes one by one, smiling subserviently. Marcus found it boring and waved his hand, dismissing me. I returned to the basement, wearing the soaked gown. The giant screen in the basement silently played Marcus’s past charity records. I rummaged through my worn backpack and found a voice recorder; Grandma had given it to me. Next to the recorder was a substantial accidental death insurance policy. I carefully tucked the policy into the inner lining of my bra. Then I tucked the voice recorder into the most concealed seam of the gown’s lining. The System displayed a prompt in my mind: “Emergency mode activated. If the host’s freedom is forcibly deprived, the System will automatically send evidence to major media outlets’ inboxes.” I stared at the red text, my throat tightening, and softly said: “Thank you, System.” Seraphina’s shrill voice came from outside the door. “Autumn, Mr. Davis’s luxury car is at the door. Come out quickly.” I lifted the hem of my gown, stepped into those ill-fitting high heels, and ascended the stairs one step at a time. System: Countdown 5 days, 48 hours, 32 minutes. The door opened, and the white light outside blinded me.

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Three years into my cancer battle, I finally couldn’t hold on anymore. Before I found my release, I wanted one last look at the old apartment complex where I’d lived with my parents. I had intended to come quietly, leave silently. But unexpectedly, as soon as I reached the complex gates, I ran into my ex-husband, dressed in a sharp suit. Years had passed, and we had both changed. He had removed the woven bracelet I made for him, now wearing an expensive gold watch. I had shaved off the long hair he loved most, now wearing a hat to hide my bald head. We looked at each other for a moment before exchanging greetings. As we brushed past, Aaron Hayes suddenly called out to me. “Fiona Thorne, are you still angry with me?” I subtly curled my lips, shaking my head. There’s only anger where there’s love. And my love had long since been eroded. I didn’t look back, striding into the apartment complex. The last moments of my life, I wanted to keep for myself. For the once infinitely happy little home I had. 1 In the South, there is no autumn. Mid-October had just arrived, and the wind was already quite cold. I slowly walked to my doorstep. This was the apartment my parents were allocated before they got married. I was born and grew up here. Later, when Dad became the factory manager, we still didn’t move. Only because Aaron lived next door. I knelt down, reaching for the bottom of the flowerpot, but felt nothing. My heart jolted. The next second, strong hands lifted me, my back instantly pressed against a solid chest. Turning my head, Aaron’s face was already close to mine. “Why are your hands so cold?” I abruptly pulled my hand back, stepping away. Aaron stared at me, then pulled a pair of wool gloves from his own pocket. A leaf was embroidered near the cuff of the gloves, the stitching a familiar habit of Olivia’s needlework. I shoved my hands into my pockets, politely declining: “No trouble, I’m not cold.” “You’re usually so afraid of cold hands and chilblains…” Mid-sentence, he saw the embroidery on the gloves and paused. He silently put the gloves away, asking if I had forgotten my keys again. I nodded. Aaron offered to accompany me to the factory office to get a spare key, just like in high school. But we were no longer high school students, nor did we have any reason to go together. Aaron and I should have been strangers. Seeing an old man riding a bicycle in the same direction, I asked for a ride. The uncle readily agreed. After a few pedal strokes, he looked back. He smiled and asked: “Having a lovers’ spat?” “I often see that young man waiting by the door. Look how anxious he is when you get on the bike. Just scare him a bit, okay?” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat, pulling my coat tighter. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been divorced for eight years.” “He lives there anyway. He’s not waiting for me.” The uncle chuckled awkwardly, then changed the subject. “Young lady, you used to live here too, right?” “Why choose to come back in October? It’s much warmer earlier in the year, you could’ve played by the river, it’s so refreshing then!” I looked back; Aaron had become a blurry little dot. In a blink, he was out of sight. I rubbed the hem of my coat, smiling bitterly: “I had intended to come back sooner.” “But August was for my mother’s funeral, September I was tethered to IV drips… and so it slowly dragged to October.” The uncle apologized, shutting his mouth, his face full of regret. I smiled, patting the uncle’s shoulder, “It’s alright, uncle.” “People are meant to die. I’ve come to terms with it.” After my diagnosis, many people pitied my youth, my lonely, ghost-like existence. But who cared? The day I divorced Aaron, I chewed up and swallowed the word ‘care’. The uncle listened quietly, dropping me off smoothly at my destination. As I thanked him and was about to enter the factory office, the uncle called out to me. His expression was conflicted, and he asked in a low voice. “Miss, why did you and your ex-husband divorce?” “I thought he seemed quite concerned about you. Given your current health, it would be good to have someone caring for you.” I listened calmly, then replied indifferently. “Divorce is usually for the same few reasons, isn’t it?” “I caught him in bed with my best friend.” 2 Aaron and I had known each other for seventeen years. Seventeen years. The red brick apartment complex remained, but the people were unrecognizable. I still remember that year in high school, I forgot my house keys. It was Aaron, who had just moved in that day, who accompanied me to the factory office to get them. The walk, which usually took forever, flew by in a few conversations thanks to Aaron’s company. We went to school together, came home together, spent winter breaks and summer holidays together. The day after our final exams, we held hands. We occupied the most youthful times of each other’s lives. Later, Aaron, whose parents had died young, wanted to ease his grandfather’s burden. During the summer break of his sophomore year, as he was braiding my long hair, he said he was dropping out of college to work. The thought of being separated from him made me run home, heartbroken. For the first time, I begged my father. I told him, I wanted to be with Aaron. Dad finished his tea from the thermos. He stared at me for a long time before asking. “You really can’t live without him?” Wiping my tears, I nodded emphatically. From the first time Aaron accompanied me to the factory office to get the keys. From when he stroked my long hair and said I was beautiful. I was certain that in this life, no matter what happened, I couldn’t be separated from him. Dad sighed deeply, and he and Mom discussed it for a long time. That afternoon, Dad went to the bank, came back with a bag of cash, and knocked on the neighbor’s door. Dad handed the money to Aaron and said, “Getting into college isn’t easy. Don’t worry about the money.” “Just focus on your studies. When you graduate and succeed, you’ll be able to take better care of your grandfather.” Aaron stared at the money in his arms for a long time, until tears streamed from his eyes, and he finally knelt down. He raised three fingers, swearing that he would work hard and repay this kindness by being a loyal servant in the future. Dad pressed down his swearing hand, helping him up. “I don’t need you to be a loyal servant.” “If you and Fiona are truly in love, then treat her well in the future.” Aaron nodded through his tears, promising to treat me well for all eternity. From that day on, we officially became a couple. He was diligent, passing his bar exam in his junior year and interning at the largest law firm in the country in his senior year. After graduation, he won his first difficult case, becoming famous overnight. Suddenly, he was a rising star in the legal world. He also kept his promise. Throughout our relationship, he cherished me, treating me like royalty. The day before our wedding, he looked at me, making a woven bracelet, and asked. “Could you put a strand of your hair in it?” “I want to have you with me wherever I go.” He ran his fingers through my long hair, his eyes shining as he said. “Fiona, I can’t live without you.” I smiled, my heart as sweet as honey. Everyone envied me for having a loving husband. No matter how busy he was, he would take a train from the provincial capital every week to see me. To spend more time with me, he would always buy the earliest ticket for the next day. Even if it meant getting up at four in the morning. Once, I had acute gastroenteritis. I was too weak to get out of bed, and my parents took me to the hospital. When I opened my eyes in the middle of the night, I saw Aaron, who had a court case the next day, sitting by my bedside. The moonlight spilled over him; for a moment, I thought it was a dream. Until Aaron’s crystalline tear fell, landing on the back of my hand. “Darling, I’m not going to the provincial capital. I’ll stay by your side, alright?” I didn’t know how he had managed to come back so late at night without any transportation. I reached out to him, filled with tenderness, and he hugged me tightly. In that moment, I believed wholeheartedly. We would be happy like this forever. So, I quit my job and moved to the city where he worked. But what I didn’t expect was this. My surprise would turn into heartbreak. I saw him and Olivia, naked, lying on a bed. 3 Seeing the uncle’s shocked and worried gaze. I twisted my lips, speaking calmly. “He was in a deep sleep that day; he didn’t realize I had come.” “So, there was no argument between us that day.” “However, Olivia did open her eyes and see me.” In that moment, a pain as if my chest was bursting made it almost impossible for me to breathe. Like a sand painting washed away by a wave, no matter how beautiful, it vanished instantly. That night, Olivia carried a tin box and led me to the rooftop. “In elementary school, after my parents ran a pyramid scheme, swindled money, and fled the factory town, all the other kids hated me. Only you were willing to play with me.” “I still remember everyone saying we were like sisters, like ‘Bonnie and Clyde’.” “If it weren’t for you, I might still be trapped in that abusive marriage.” Olivia turned to look at me, opening the tin box in her hands. “So, I believe you have the right to know all of this.” Inside the tin box were stacks of letters. I opened one; it was Aaron’s handwriting. “You are still my pure white moonlight. You have the right to pursue happiness; let me help you.” “It’s my honor to fight for you. I will do my utmost to give you happiness.” “Fiona can’t live without me, but I can’t live without you.” The date on the letter was the day I asked Aaron to go check on Olivia, who was hospitalized due to domestic abuse. It turned out Aaron had been writing to Olivia all these years. The date of the first letter was even the day after our high school exams ended. “If I were stronger, you wouldn’t have to go work by the coast. I truly despise my own incompetence.” So in our sophomore year, when Aaron said he was going to work far away, was it to find Olivia? Those details I overlooked, Those trivial matters I had forgotten, At this moment, they clearly resurfaced. No wonder Aaron was willing to accompany me to see Olivia every summer break. No wonder after Olivia knitted me a sweater, she used the leftover yarn to knit a scarf for Aaron. No wonder a prominent lawyer like Aaron would unhesitatingly agree to help Olivia with her divorce case. It turned out, from the very beginning, I was the one who disrupted his plan to pursue true love. The summer night wind was now even more chilling than winter. “Fiona, all these years you sent me money, helped me find work. Without you, I wouldn’t be alive.” “I truly didn’t want to hurt you, but Aaron and I are genuinely in love. Please, let us be together.” Saying this, Olivia knelt before me. Back when Olivia’s parents fled, seeing her alone, I took her to my house for meals every day. I even begged my parents to adopt her as their goddaughter. She, and he… treated me like this? In an instant, mountains crumbled, the world overturned. Before Olivia could react, I rushed downstairs like a madwoman. I burst through the bedroom door and dragged Aaron out of bed. Aaron was first shocked when he saw me, then hung his head in silence. I threw the letters at his face, hitting him and questioning him. Why, if he didn’t love me, did he accompany me to the factory office for the keys? Why, if he didn’t love me, did he let me braid my hair into a bracelet for him to wear? Why… the day after we held hands, did he write a letter to my best friend? Seeing my uncontrollable sobbing, Aaron’s eyes also reddened. He held me with trembling hands. “Fiona, I didn’t not love you.” “I just… met Olivia earlier.” Almost ten years together… All the sweetness instantly turned into bitter poison. Was I truly the clown who stole their love? I didn’t believe it, and I wouldn’t accept it! I vented hysterically. Aaron just stood silently, letting my fists rain down on him. Until Olivia tried to intervene and I pushed her down. Only then did Aaron rush to her, panicked. I missed my hit, stumbling against the wardrobe. My hands hurt, my face hurt, but my heart hurt the most. “Aaron, I really can’t go on like this anymore.” Olivia clung to Aaron, looking pitiful. She was crying too. “If you can’t let go of Fiona because of gratitude, then let me leave alone.” “Anyway, I’ve never been as lucky as Fiona. I’m used to being alone.” “Don’t worry about me anymore.” Saying this, Olivia stood up and ran out. Aaron, who had been silent, screamed, his voice breaking. This was the first time I had ever seen him so distraught. Not even during his poorest days had I witnessed it. And his distress was for Olivia. I’m so tired. Was he with me only out of gratitude then… he truly didn’t love me. I leaned against the wardrobe, speaking weakly. “Aaron Hayes, if you dare to go after her.” “Between us, it’s completely over.” Aaron looked back at me with a complex expression. He still strode out after her. Hearing this, the uncle frowned, silently lighting a cigarette. But seeing my pale face, he extinguished it without a word. His face was filled with helplessness, and he murmured: “You never truly know what’s in a person’s heart.” Yes, you never know a person’s true intentions. If the story had ended there. It would have just been the dissolution of a relationship. A wound, a pain for a while, but eventually, it would slowly pass. But the next day, fate once again showed me its cruelty.

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Working late, pulling an all-nighter for a project, a message suddenly popped up in the “Future Millionairesses Club” chat. “Girls, I snagged four tickets to a ‘Mystery Bachelor Speed Dating’ party! Let’s go!” No sooner had Scarlett sent the message than Melody and Audrey quickly responded: “Count us in! Scarlett’s picks are always top-tier – handsome, rich CEOs, lives of luxury, here we come!” The group chat erupted in cheers. I sighed, glancing at the half-finished project. “My client needs this proposal by noon tomorrow. I’m only halfway done…” The chat fell silent for a moment, then, with unspoken agreement, they changed the subject. By the time I finished the proposal, it was 3:30 AM. I grabbed a quick bite downstairs and collapsed into bed, falling into a deep sleep. My next conscious moment was being jolted awake by a banging on my door. It was the police. “Ms. Huxley, you’re suspected of murder. Please come with us.” 1 My phone vibrated incessantly. I’d set it to do not disturb, then went back to revising the proposal. A few minutes later, Scarlett messaged me privately: “Hazel, the guys at tonight’s party are all incredibly handsome, young, and loaded – absolute bachelors. This is our one shot at a life of luxury! I worked so hard to get these tickets, are you really not coming?” I looked at the proposal, then at the message my boss had sent minutes earlier: “If I don’t get a satisfactory proposal by noon tomorrow, you’re fired.” Sighing, I replied to Scarlett: “I really can’t make it. I can’t gamble my job on something so uncertain.” I finished with two pleading, sad emojis. A life of luxury sounded nice, but I didn’t think I was cut out for it. I was meant to be a diligent worker bee, pouring my sweat and blood into my job, shining for the company. Scarlett’s chat bubble showed “typing…” for a while. Three minutes later, she finally sent just one word: “Okay.” I finally finished the proposal at 3:30 AM. Their last messages in the group chat were from 2:30 AM. I scrolled up through the 99+ notifications, seeing them, clad in their party outfits, getting into taxis headed for a “private luxury yacht” at the harbor. I bought some bread and milk from the convenience store downstairs. After eating, I passed out completely. I was in a deep, dreamless sleep when a loud banging on my door roused me. “What’s going on? An earthquake?” I scrambled out of bed, my mind still foggy, when a stern voice from outside the door spoke. “Is Ms. Huxley home? This is the Elm Street Precinct. We need your cooperation with an investigation.” I slipped on my slippers, my hair a mess, and opened the door to find three or four officers standing outside my apartment. The lead officer was a lean, middle-aged man. Seeing me, he held up his badge. “Ms. Huxley, good morning. I’m from the Elm Street Precinct. My name is Detective Prescott. You are suspected of homicide. Please come with us.” Other residents in the hallway, alerted by the commotion, opened their doors and peered out. “Can you believe it? Ms. Huxley, who looks so harmless, is a murderer?” “Right? You never know! Good thing the police caught her. Living next to a killer, that’s terrifying.” “…” Listening to my neighbors, my brows furrowed deeply. My sleep, interrupted after an all-nighter, left me inexplicably irritable. “Detective Prescott, even the police need evidence to make an arrest, don’t they? Without proof, how can you say I’ve committed murder?” Hearing my words, Detective Prescott gestured to a younger officer behind him. The officer immediately pulled out his phone and displayed several photos. My lingering irritation from being woken up vanished the moment I saw those pictures. A sharp ringing erupted in my ears. The officers kept talking, but I couldn’t hear a word, my gaze fixed on the screen, my eyes welling up with tears. In the photos, Scarlett lay naked, her body covered in countless shattered mirror fragments, amidst a pool of blood. Each fragment reflected her distorted, painful, and despairing face. 2 “Hazel Huxley, please come with us.” Detective Prescott’ expression was grim as he stared at me. The officers behind him watched me warily, as if I might try to flee. But I was fixated on that photograph, tears silently streaming down my face. She was alive and well last night. Why was she a cold corpse today? At the precinct, Detective Prescott sat across from me, his face impassive. “According to our investigation, the deceased’s last phone call was to you. Her last transaction was a transfer to you. And the button clutched in her hand? We found your fingerprints on it. All the evidence at the scene points to you, Hazel Huxley. Do you have anything to explain? For instance, where were you, and what were you doing, between 3 AM and 6 AM?” This was the eighth time Detective Prescott had asked me. I placed my phone on the table, displaying my chat history in the “Future Millionairesses” group. “Detective Prescott, I’ve already told you. Last night, they invited me to a ‘Mystery Bachelor Speed Dating’ party. I declined because I had to finish a proposal at home. Look, at 3:30 AM, I even sent the proposal to my boss.” I switched my phone to my conversation with my boss. The timestamp showed I had indeed sent a version of the proposal at 3:30 AM. “As for after 3:30 AM, once I finished the proposal, I felt a bit hungry, so I went downstairs to the convenience store to grab something to eat. After eating, I was so tired I just went to sleep. I must have fallen asleep around 4 AM. If you don’t believe me, the convenience store downstairs should have surveillance footage. Failing that, you can ask the store owner to testify.” Detective Prescott glanced at my phone. “Half an hour ago, we already checked. The store owner did see you, but he can’t remember what time he saw you last night. And most importantly, the store owner’s surveillance equipment is quite old. The timestamp on his footage from last night shows November 28th, 3:31 PM, but today is only November 23rd. In other words, his equipment can’t prove anything for you.” My only alibi was useless due to incorrect timestamps. A wave of despair washed over me, and I simply gave up. “Since you’ve already decided I’m the killer, why ask so many questions? Just arrest me.” A tense silence fell over the interrogation room. Just as I expected Detective Prescott to make the arrest, he sighed. “It’s precisely because the evidence at the scene is so overwhelmingly conclusive that we don’t believe you’re the killer.” “Then why am I here…?” I didn’t finish my sentence as Detective Prescott’ phone rang urgently. He answered, and whatever he heard caused his face to change dramatically. He suddenly stood up. His chair scraped back, clattering to the floor. “What… what happened?” Seeing Detective Prescott’ uncharacteristic agitation, a premonition of dread settled in my stomach. After hanging up, Detective Prescott looked at me with a complex expression. “Hazel Huxley, I hear you publish a novel on a certain writing website? Are you the author?” “Yes,” I nodded, feeling a pang of anxiety. How could this case be connected to my novel? Just as that thought crossed my mind, Detective Prescott spoke slowly. “Scarlett Price’s autopsy report is back. She died around 4 AM on the 23rd, from massive blood loss and emotional collapse. The wounds on her body were peculiar – shattered glass fragments meticulously embedded in a radial pattern. Doesn’t that passage sound familiar?” He spoke the last sentence softly. As his words hung in the air, he placed his phone in front of me. “Countless shattered mirror fragments embedded in her skin like diamonds, transforming her into a walking kaleidoscope, a vanity dying by her own reflection.” I stared blankly at the line of text, suddenly realizing it was a sentence from my ongoing mystery novel, serialized on that website. The chapter was published at 3 AM on the 23rd. While the content was newly released, I had designed this particular scene three months ago. “Hazel Huxley, think again. Is there anything you’ve overlooked? While we believe you, all current evidence points to you as the killer.” “Right now, only you can save yourself.” 3 Anything I’d overlooked? I stared blankly at the content on Detective Prescott’ phone. I used to be so proud of such a brilliant idea… But now, a single sentence from my novel had seemingly led to the death of my best friend. Slumping in the chair, feeling utterly lost, Scarlett’s horrific death played over and over in my mind, along with her message from last night: “Hazel, the guys at this party are all incredible – handsome, rich, absolute bachelors…” She was still thinking of me, even in her last moments, and yet I had, in some way, caused her death. Guilt and self-reproach washed over me, a dull ache in my chest. I clutched my head with both hands, but nothing came to mind. After finishing work last night, I’d seen them, dressed in their party outfits, heading to the luxury yacht… Right, the luxury yacht… With that thought, I abruptly looked up at Detective Prescott. “They said last night they were going to a luxurious private yacht at the harbor. Maybe that yacht is the key. We should…” “We’ve checked all the surveillance footage around the harbor. There’s no sign of any luxury yacht, nor did we see your friends going to the harbor.” Before I could finish, Detective Prescott poured cold water on my idea. So they were tricked? If they were lured out, it must be murder, premeditated by the killer. Using my novel content was merely a tactic to find a scapegoat. If that’s the case, then… the killer must have read my novel! After I relayed my thoughts to Detective Prescott, he was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a hint of resignation in his tone. “We’ve already had people investigate what you’re suggesting. As you said, your content was set to auto-publish at 3 AM, and Scarlett Price’s time of death was around 4 AM. That means the killer is hiding among the readers who purchased that chapter between 3 AM and 4 AM.” “But after our technical team checked, we didn’t find any unusual accounts.” The lead went cold again. I anxiously picked up and put down my phone several times, then carefully said, “I have a theory. Don’t you think the killer might be murdering people according to the scenarios I publish? If so, then the next two chapters…” “What are the next chapters?” Detective Prescott gave me a peculiar look, as if surprised that a young woman like me could devise such twisted scenarios. I cleared my throat, opened my author dashboard, and showed him the two unpublished chapters. The next two chapters were “The Performer Dies by the Audience” and “The Collector Dies by Their Collection.” Detective Prescott stared at them for a long time, then suddenly stepped out to make a call. Three minutes later, he returned. Detective Prescott wearily massaged his temples, staring at my novel’s content. “If that’s the case, then at 3 AM on the 24th, the killer might strike again.” I nodded. Then I heard him continue, “Since you’re the author, imagine yourself as the victim. How would you escape? Or, think about the loopholes in the scenarios you designed. Perhaps we can use those loopholes to track the killer.” Loopholes? I crossed my arms, leaned back in the chair, my brows deeply furrowed. Loopholes… When I designed this part, it was to grab readers’ attention, creating a twisted serial killer case. This serial killer specifically targeted single women, but each time before striking, he would find an excuse, saying that modern women were hypocritical, materialistic, and greedy… For example, the girl in the story, beautiful and capable, was chosen because the killer had once been rejected by a pretty girl, so he hated pretty girls. Thus, he chose “Death Kaleidoscope” as her method of death, embedding shattered glass into her body, scarring her face, leaving her to die in despair. But this design had a huge loophole. The loophole was… 4 Just as a faint idea formed in my mind, I heard urgent footsteps outside. Immediately, the young officer who followed Detective Prescott knocked on the door. “Chief, new intel.” Detective Prescott pushed the door open and stepped out. Through the door, I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I saw the young officer’s expression was grim, and upon hearing his words, Detective Prescott’ face completely changed. A few minutes later, Detective Prescott pushed the door open and came back in, his face terrifyingly dark. “Melody Chen is dead.” “What?” I shot up from my chair, looking at Detective Prescott in disbelief. “How is that possible? My next two chapters haven’t even been published yet, how could Melody die? How did she die? Is it like the plot I designed in my novel?” Detective Prescott gravely nodded at me. “Ten minutes ago, our team detected Melody Chen’s account going online. Immediately after, she started a livestream, but by the time the camera focused on her, she had already stopped breathing.” “We dispatched officers to the scene, Melody Chen’s home, but the killer had already escaped. We investigated all surveillance footage in the surrounding area but found nothing. The killer seems intimately familiar with her home’s layout, cleverly evading all cameras.” “And there’s something else peculiar…” Here, Detective Prescott gave me a strange look. “Our team found that all the fill lights at the scene were set to maximum brightness and couldn’t be turned off. And the victim’s phone, computer, backup phone, and four other devices were simultaneously looping a compilation of her past livestream ‘disasters.’” He paused after saying that, then continued, “I recall a line in your novel, where the serial killer, after murdering an internet streamer, said something like this:” “Let the performer be killed by incessant scrutiny in the replay of their own failures.” Seven devices simultaneously playing Melody’s past livestream ‘disaster moments’ exactly matched the content of my novel – letting her die in the replay of her own failures… A chill ran down my spine. It was as if an unseen hand had been laying out this plan long before any of us realized. “Detective Prescott, speaking of loopholes, something just occurred to me…” “What is it?” “I’ve written many mystery novels and designed many killers, but they all share a common trait. All serial killers take photos as mementos of their ‘masterpieces,’ and sometimes even return to the scene. The photos of Scarlett you showed me today, are you certain all of them were taken by your team?” Detective Prescott froze at my words. The person who called 911 this morning was an elderly cleaning woman, wearing a brightly colored cap. Because it was raining, she was also wearing a thick raincoat. When the officers arrived, the cleaning woman was waiting by the entrance, and upon seeing them, she even sent them a photo of the scene: “Young man, you wouldn’t believe it, that young lady bled so much, it was horrifying, take a look…” After sending them the photo, when they tried to find the cleaning woman again, she had vanished without a trace. Now that I thought about it, the cleaning woman’s height and build didn’t seem like a woman’s at all; it was more like… a man’s! So, the person who called 911 this morning could very well be the killer themselves?! Realizing this possibility, Detective Prescott quickly found the photo sent by the “cleaning woman.” He zoomed in frame by frame, and suddenly noticed something in a shattered mirror fragment on the victim’s neck. In that mirror fragment, vaguely reflected was an eye, with a mole at the corner of it. Upon discovering the clue, Detective Prescott immediately called the young officer, but when the call connected, the other party spoke urgently: “Chief, our team found Audrey Stone! She’s alive!”

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At 11:59 PM, a new post suddenly appeared on the Instagram of Ham Mellark, the celebrated Oscar-winning actor. “Happy New Year, and ‘Hazel’ new year.” It was a seemingly ordinary New Year’s greeting. Yet, the comment section was filled with a sense of lingering heartache. “He put ‘Hazel’ in quotation marks. Even in the new year, are you still thinking of her?” “My ‘Jazel’ ship broke up two years ago. Is there still a chance for them to get back together?” “If you two can just reunite, I’ll do anything!” The post’s popularity soared, instantly hitting the trending topics. #JazelHeartbreak became the top trending hashtag. More and more shipping fans were reawakened, some even flooding my comment section with messages. “Hazel, please look back at Ham Mellark!” “Hazel, your relationship was so strong back then, you even had a joint couple’s account. I don’t believe you two are truly over!” “Can you respond to this trending topic?” I ignored them all, simply folding the advanced stage stomach cancer diagnosis report. A draft obituary, set to auto-post two months from now, sat in my account’s draft box. Let that be the response they’re looking for. 1. My young assistant clutched her phone, casting a cautious glance at me. “Ms. Miller, should we respond to this trending topic?” I let the makeup artist continue patting thick foundation onto my face. “Don’t bother.” After all, in two months, there would naturally be a response. The assistant stood her ground, unmoving. I knew she had more to say. Sure enough, after a moment’s hesitation, she spoke: “Ms. Miller, actually… I was a huge fan of you two as a couple. I still remember your wedding like it was yesterday…” Realizing she had said too much, she quickly stopped herself. “I just wanted to ask, do you truly feel nothing for Mr. Mellark anymore? Not even a tiny bit?” The makeup artist’s movements slowed slightly, as if waiting for my answer too. Scenes from the past flashed before my eyes: from our first meeting on set to the monumental wedding that shocked the entire entertainment industry. I smiled, my voice soft but firm. “No.” “Not a single bit.” The assistant looked somewhat disappointed. The makeup artist said nothing, simply exhaling a quiet sigh. My agent, Serena, pushed open the door and entered then. After a brief chat, she suddenly spoke with a complex tone: “Ham Mellark will also be at tonight’s script reading.” I hummed in acknowledgment. Serena paused, then continued: “If you need some time, I can speak with the director. We can skip tonight’s reading first…” “No need.” I cut her off, patting her hand reassuringly. “I’ll be there on time tonight.” Serena said nothing, and silence filled the room. I looked at everyone’s expressions, feeling a little helpless. Aside from the fact that I was dying, so many years had passed, and I had long moved on. Yet, everyone around me seemed more heartbroken than I was. I smiled, changing the subject. “Alright, for now, I just want to focus on this project.” After finishing my makeup, I went to the restroom and reached up to remove my wig. The woman in the mirror stared back, her head completely bald. The makeup, thick as a mask, was meant to conceal the mottled patches on my face from my illness, making me look like a ghost. But thankfully, I’d always worn heavy makeup since my debut, so no one would notice anything amiss. The only time my makeup was natural was at my wedding to Ham Mellark. Thanks to him, after that grand wedding, my long-maligned public image actually improved significantly. Back then, I thought I had finally overcome rock bottom and ushered in a new beginning. I never imagined it was merely stepping from one abyss into another. 2. At 7 PM, I arrived at the hotel precisely on time. My assistant suddenly rushed over to tell me that the supporting actress with whom I had scenes had been replaced by Iris Lane. Iris Lane, the actress I never got along with. “Wasn’t the casting decided a long time ago?” My assistant looked confused. “Serena asked, and they said… it was the investor’s decision.” She paused, then lowered her voice. “They also hinted that it might be because we’ve been ignoring Mr. Mellark on social media, making him angry…” Hearing that, I twitched the corner of my mouth. All these years, Ham Mellark hadn’t changed one bit. To make me compromise, he’d pull out all the stops, even if it meant hurting me. I took a deep breath. As I pushed the door open, everyone’s gaze instinctively turned in one direction. The man sat in the corner, thick script in his finely boned hands. The atmosphere hung heavy for a moment, then, with unspoken understanding, everyone averted their eyes. In the latter half of the script reading, I went to the balcony for some air. As I walked out, I saw Ham Mellark standing there. Seeing me, he nonchalantly put out the cigarette in his hand. I politely apologized. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize anyone was here. I’ll leave immediately.” Just as I turned, my arm was grabbed. “Been avoiding me for two years, still not enough?” Without thinking, I shook off his hand. Ham Mellark frowned, his tone chilling. “Hazel Miller, I told you, my patience is limited.” “If you keep this up, I’ll make you disappear from Hollywood for good!” I certainly believed he had that power. Hadn’t he almost succeeded back then? Endless scandals, trending topics that couldn’t be suppressed. I didn’t look at him, walking off the balcony without a backward glance. Just as I entered the restroom, a sudden metallic taste filled my throat. I vomited a large mouthful of fresh blood, my crimson lips making me look even more like a hanged ghost. A tissue was handed to me. I turned, meeting my assistant’s red-rimmed eyes. “Ms. Miller, let’s not do the reading, okay?” “Let’s go back and rest…” I was about to refuse when my assistant suddenly choked out, “I saw Mr. Mellark yelling at you. You’re already like this, and you still have to put up with this outside. Didn’t he love you the most back then? Why is he treating you like this too?” “Ms. Miller, why did you two break up back then?” I looked at her. After a long moment, I reached out and gently ruffled her hair. It wasn’t surprising she felt so heartbroken. Ham Mellark’s love for me back then had indeed been passionate and extravagant. He showered me with countless resources, elevating me from an unknown talent to a hugely popular star. Then, at the peak of my fame, he married me, openly declaring to the entire industry that he was my rock. Everyone said I was lucky, that Ham Mellark was my good fortune. If Ham Mellark hadn’t fallen for another girl, perhaps we would have been very happy. No arguments, no divorce. We might have had a beautiful baby, and my illness would still have been treatable. Alas, there are no ‘ifs.’ 3. My memory of Clara Belle isn’t very vivid anymore. I only recall first hearing her name when Ham Mellark complained, brows furrowed. He said this young actress had no talent and was stubborn, probably a troublesome signing. Gradually, he started saying Clara’s progress was slow but she was diligent enough. “Her parents passed away early; she’s been struggling on her own until now, she’s a pitiful soul.” I paused mid-bite, instinctively looking up at him. I remembered how Ham Mellark’s affection for me had begun—he pitied my struggles. He started pouring massive resources into Clara Belle. I casually asked if he was giving Clara too much attention. Ham Mellark smiled, pinching my cheek. “Hazel, I just think she’s like you in your early years, that’s why I want to help her.” The affection in his eyes was so genuine, I believed him. Until he gave a role I had worked so hard to get to Clara Belle. I confronted him, asking Ham Mellark why. He, however, looked at the papers in his hand, not even raising his head. “It’s just one role, don’t be so petty.” I wanted to say it wasn’t about being petty; this role was one I had immersed myself in over several sleepless nights. But Ham Mellark cut me off. His tone was cold, his eyes showing impatience. “You’ve already achieved so much. What’s wrong with giving some opportunities to younger people?” “Your journey wasn’t easy either. Why can’t you empathize with others?” The very empathy he once felt for my struggles now became a blade he used against me. My body trembled, fighting back tears, as I argued fiercely with Ham Mellark. Until I pulled out my phone, intending to delete the couple’s account we had managed together for five years. Ham Mellark, his face dark, stopped me. He called the director, telling him to give my original role back. After a moment of polite conversation, he suddenly changed his tone. “Isn’t the supporting role in this series still open?” “Give it to Clara Belle. She’s more suited for a resilient and strong character like that.” With that, he didn’t look at me again, turned, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door so hard it echoed. For the next week, we worked as usual, maintaining appearances. We continued to hold hands, attending various galas together. But the moment we were out of public view, Ham Mellark would immediately let go of my hand, as if I were something unclean. His schedule also became a secret from me; sometimes, I couldn’t reach him for a whole week. I updated our couple’s account every week. Fans commented below: “Why are all these photos from last month? Haven’t you taken any new ones recently?” I didn’t know how to reply. Because I hadn’t seen him in a month. That day, I went to Ham Mellark’s agent for the first time, begging him for half a day to disclose Ham Mellark’s itinerary. I immediately rushed over by car. All the way there, my heart pounded inexplicably fast. When I got out of the car, the strap of my high heel suddenly snapped, and my ankle immediately swelled up. I endured the pain, limping as I opened the door to Ham Mellark’s hotel room, where he was supposedly resting. In the dim, ambiguous light, Ham Mellark and Clara Belle were tangled on the bed, their clothes disheveled. The sounds rose and fell, crawling into my ears like insects. But in that instant, my love, my future, the fans who deeply loved the ‘Jazel’ pairing—all of this overshadowed my heartbreak and fury at being betrayed. I backed out of the door, separating myself and the paparazzi who had secretly followed me from their space of pleasure.

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